


Broken, not perfect, but together.

by BloodErroR



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Damian Wayne, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Batfamily & Superfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Angst (DCU), Batfamily Drama (DCU), Boys In Love, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Drama, Family Loss, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Flashbacks, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Marriage, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Jason Todd, Parent Tim Drake, Protective Jason Todd, References to Depression, Relationship Reveal, Running Away, Same-Sex Marriage, Secret Relationship, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Two Fathers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, no beta we die like robins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 68,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodErroR/pseuds/BloodErroR
Summary: Broken.The Batfamily was broken.It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appears, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Implied Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Implied Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Kent & Damian Wayne, Jonathan Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 75
Kudos: 330





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Well, this is my second fanfic in this fandom and it's an idea I had in my head for a long time, so I'm happy to finally share it here! Before reading this, a little reminder to read the tags carefully, and I just want to say that English it's not my first language and I don't have a beta reader, so please forgive me if I have mistakes, I'm really trying and ready to improve!
> 
> Thank you ~

**_Now._ **

_“Akhi.”_

That was a harsh word for Damian, or at least it had been in the past.

_“Akhi.”_

He was sure that nine or eight years ago, his preadolescent and irascible himself, full of anger and new in Gotham with a new family of strangers who seemed to reject all ways of life he had known until then, would have think twice before associate someone to that word deliberately.

Because brotherhood implied respect, feelings and emotions towards someone or several people. People who could take advantage of his weakness, his vulnerability in an instant and stand above him to see him fall in this cruel world. Because emotions make you weak, vulnerable, volatile, and if you’re not careful, you can die. Or at least that was the league of assassins taught him.

Maybe they were right.

However, Damian was equally sure that he was suffering a severe concussion. And he should get up quickly before the rogues flee out of there or finish the job, whichever they decide first, but none would be good news for him.

“Dam…! Answ…!”

His ears were ringing, he couldn’t hear well and only was able to recognize an annoying and loud static sound, mixed with broken and cut off words on the comms. He wanted to answer, really, but his body was partially numb, he was breathing hard, his head was fuzzy, and he wasn’t sure if the wet sensation in the side of his head was because the sweat or the blood.

Probably it was blood.

“Da…ian!”

Inhaling, he barely raised his hand to touch his temple, feeling his body heavy and shivering in pain, but his left side completely slept. And he knew he should get up from the floor, he had to, the dust and grit were very uncomfortable, he was coughing for a while and on top of that all of this is difficult to clean later, but the world was spinning and he knew he was utterly fucked when his hand covered in his own blood fell on the floor.

He wanted to focus for a moment, his blurred vision going through the ground, but his head throbbed with pain again and he couldn’t register beyond the static noises and the chaos around him. People were running away as the fire spread, the cries of the wounded could be hear in the distance and the calling of those who decided to help after the disaster too.

A neon sign, pink and green, blinked until the last breath between the rubble, barely recognizable and a few meters from him. It looked like it was laughing at him, because it was his fall, his distraction before the blast hit.

“Ans…r!”

Damian knew it was a terrible idea going to Gamorra. This operation was destinated to end like this or even worse and follow the steps of a new and a rookie terrorist organization so hastily and without thinking was stupid, especially when their businesses led them to this place.

But Damian needed to do it, he needed to get away from everything today, _specially_ today. He didn’t want to look back, he didn’t want to look at Batman, or Nightwing, or Batgirl, or anyone. Neither go to the cave, or Gotham, or talk to anyone, or know anything. No, he didn’t want to remember, he didn’t want to think, even if that means he would end up dazed, wounded and pitiful under some rubble in Gamorra island after an explosion that certain terrorists considerated necessary to cover their tracks after knew someone was looking around for them.

_“Akhi…”_

If they could see him now… Pathetic.

Still dizzy and bleeding, in another big mistake he tried to get up, but his head exploded again in protest, his body shuddered in twinges of pain. He could have a broken rib, maybe two, and If he didn’t pass out in a few minutes maybe he could know finally if the heavy weight on his left side were more rubble or not, he wasn’t sure.

What was clear, even in his pitiful state, is that go after terrorists to another country to end up bleeding in the ground it isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but it wasn’t the worst at least.

“I… oming! Hol… n!”

The voice on the comms was still screaming, scared and worried. Again, he would like to answer, but now he could barely hear well, and the more time passed it was harder to maintain consciousness. His vision was getting dark at its edges and each second his mind was numbest.

This idea was so, _so_ bad. Surely his pride will be hurt in many ways when he wakes up, not to mention the discussion that will follow after that and all the disapproving looks that he will receive because of this damn explosion, which, in his defense, it shouldn’t have been that big.

But at the time it was a good idea, you know, a fantastic idea. Because he will receive the disapproving looks whatever he do, he didn’t have to think too much to hit a rogue, he wouldn’t have to feel the growing and suffocating tension of the batcave while he was in Zodome, and on top of that, if he was away from Gotham it would be easy not to look at the calendar and sink into guilt and resentment because of the day it was.

But, in his haste to hit someone and forget, Damian was wrong, that plan had a few mistakes, quite significant, and should have been considered. Because it wasn’t necessary to flew away from Gotham to remember the day, guilt would chase him even if he couldn’t look a single calendar in years, and the cave wasn’t the only place full of memories.

A neon sign was enough to distract him, to freeze him, to make him stop enough to not react at the explosion.

_“I’m sorry…”_

He could no longer hear the voice on the comms, he would faint in any moment, and his mind was randomly spitting out apologies and calls to his brothers, again and again while his vision was blurred but still fixed on the bar’s neon sign.

He vaguely remembered a story told on a rooftop, with laughs, drinks and Chinese takeout. An anecdote about how certain vigilantes entered in a bar with a pink, green neon sign in Zodome was told, they drank, they talked (“I can’t be here.” “Who you’re gonna tell? Dick?”), and then they kicked the bad guys to defeat Mother.

And now, that place was nothing but rubble, Damian buried in them. How ironic.

_“Tim… Jason…”_ He called them again before passing out completely.

~ 0.0 ~

“Damian.” Someone said gently to his side. “Wake up.”

That voice, so calm and irritating as ever, along with the sound of movement at his side, was what disturbed his sleep, pulling him slightly from the haze and waking him up in an internal curse.

Opening his eyes, Damian blinked for a few seconds until they accustomed to the light of the room. His room, if he remembered correctly, because his desk was organized as always, the walls were of the same soft color and the sheets over him were those that Pennyworth always put there especially when he knew they were his favorite when he was injured and benched.

Settling on the mattress and evaluating the state of his wounds while his body protested, he turned his head slightly to look with rejection at the person who had awakened him, as if he committed the greatest offense against his being.

“Drake.” He said angrily.

Tim, looking impassive and inscrutable as usual, was sitting on the chair placed at the side of his bed where Grayson used to tell him how his day was. But the third Robin only gave him a nod and a brief look to the tray placed on his nightstand.

“Alfred made me bring your meal.” Ha explained with a shrug.

Exhaling a grunt, Damian fixed his eyes on the tray and the food in there and huffed reluctantly, he wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t want to deal with this. But telling “no” to Alfred’s food while you were in bed would have the same effect as telling his father to go to therapy: none.

Moreover, he wouldn’t be facing only Alfred, because the butler had sent Drake for a reason. And he could feel it along that clear and undisguised look from those baby blues, terribly insistent, piercing, carefully assessing his wounds and shining with a silent and an imperceptible plea to get up and eat something at the same time.

Damian swears to himself that he was sitting on the bed because he didn’t want to face Pennyworth’s disappointment, and not because the fact that Drake was quietly worried about him makes him feel warm.

So, maybe like this he gives him an example and he can use it as a coercion later when Drake ends up in the bench too. Because anyone can say how annoying he was, putting so much effort -quietly and covered- to take care of others when then he sleeps two hours a day and mix Monster and coffee in the same cup.

“Are you going to stay here and watching?” He asks, annoyed when the teenager give him the tray and doesn’t seem to get up from the chair.

Tim seemed to think for a moment, but when he was going to speak, presumably to spoil him or to expose a logical and irrefutable reason about why he should stay, another voice from the door interrupted.

“I would do it too, make sure you eat, you’re a gremlin and you need to grow.”

Damian had to bite his tongue to not insult Jason in the exact moment he saw his ugly face peering though the door. But he knew that explain to him that he was still in the growth phase and will reach his height in a few years -probably- won’t work. Because Todd only had a role when he dared to put a foot on the mansion these days: annoy.

Which is was terribly irritating, because it’s not as if Todd was in the mansion a lot, but when he did, he sure was noticed. Moreover, he barely did it, his relationship with the family remains tense and fragile, except perhaps with Drake, which is the only one who seems to stand him. But as Grayson told him before sleep, Red Hood was screwed last night (again), and Red Robin had to drag his useless ass to get healed in the medbay, which explain his presence, his bandages and his desire to drive everyone crazy.

“Then Drake needs this more than me.” He pointed at the food. If something was clear was that he will surpass Tim, because he was already starting to catch him and that was a victory.

“I’m not the one on the bench.” Drake said rolling his eyes. “That’s you, for reckless.”

“You got him, Timmy.” Exclaimed Jason as he entered the room with that mocking attitude and sat on the bed, as if he could do that. “So, you know kid, you can’t give him that healthy food of yours, it won’t work, Babybird only eats coffee and takeaways, it’s part of his charm.”

“The charm of not knowing take care of himself?” He asked raising an eyebrow at them, angrily and intrigued equally because, babybird?

“And you are telling me this while you’re in the bench and you were knocked up yesterday in an alley, okay.” Tim snorted, pointing them out and then crossing his arms, quite annoyed.

“I wasn’t knocked up, I was resting.” Jason emphasized, as if anyone could believe that. “And being so small, you sure get in big problems, demon spawn.”

“Get out of my room.”

“Ouch! That’s hurt. Right, Timtam?” To top it off, Jason seemed to have the courage to look really hurt, while Tim nodded.

“Get. Out.”

“We’re only making you company!”

“I don’t want your company.” Snapped Damian at him. “It’s pitiful.”

“But who’s better than your older brothers to distract you?” Jason asked mockingly, referring to them as his “brothers” with sarcasm.

It was known to all of them that Todd was the one who referred to their group as “family”, but he did it sarcastically and with a strong irony, so Damian doubted that he really believes that.

“You’re not my brothers.”

Harsh words that coincided with Jason’s irony, which Damian has repeated to them many times on countless occasions. Previously with real strength in them, believing them real and reaffirming on them, because he was the only true son, the blood son, and they were nothing. Now, however, he said it without any power, without force or actual anger, just with a scathing and a tender touch.

Normally, they answer with another joke or other insult without feeling or sorrow, because that’s how they were and how their usual relationship works.

“It’s true, we’re not.” Tim said seriously. “That’s why we left you so easily, remember?”

Damian froze, feeling the abrupt change of the tone and the atmosphere in the room. Cold, it was so cold, very cold and bitter. He shouldn’t have answered that, Tim shouldn’t have said that, not in that way. No, that’s not how they did this. An icy twinge pierced through him as Timothy’s words sank into his head.

He looked at him, shocked, stunned, and Drake gaze was so indifferent this time, so cold, making Damian shudder.

“Wha-“

He barely managed to say anything before Jason got up and looked at him in the same way, in a listless and distant anger, when just a second ago he was smiling.

“It’s true. We’re going to leave you.” He announced in a firm and calm way, without a trace of regret on him. “To leave them.”

He was quiet, stunned, a knot formed in his throat and words couldn’t get out. Even if they could, he would remain static, analyzing what they were saying in that cold and decisive tone.

“We’re going to leave you, Damian.” Tim repeated. “You’re not going to see us never again.”

“We’ll go, and you don’t matter at all.”

“We didn’t care about you anyway.”

“That’s why it will be so easy to leave you.”

“We were going to do it sooner or later, like everyone, you know?”

The illusion was broken, there was no more food tray to worry about, no soft sheets, no cozy room with them trying to make him laugh while he was in the bench. Now everything was cold, just cold, icy and painful with their words echoing around him and tearing him apart.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t do anything. Just listen.

“Aren’t you happy, Damian?”

“You should be happy.”

He wasn’t. _He wasn’t._

“Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

“It is. Being the only child, the real.”

“You wanted us dead, you wanted us out of here. Because we were adopted and useless. The pretenders.”

No, he didn’t want that. He didn’t want _this_. He though he did, but it wasn’t true. It was the words and actions of an insecure child who grew up between violence and believing the poisonous words of those who he thought he could trust.

“Well, congratulations, you win.”

“We’ll leave you forever.”

No.

“Just as you wanted.”

No. No. He didn’t want that. He never did.

“Congratulations, Damian.”

No. Please.

“Congratulations.”

No. Stop, not again.

“It’s your fault.”

It is, he knows it. He has always known.

“Your fault. Yours alone. Always yours.”

His fault. His fault. Is his fault, but they couldn’t leave. Not again, please.

“Goodbye.” They said at the same time.

The door slammed, the illusion of the dream broke and something inside Damian did it too.

~ 0.0 ~

When he opened his eyes this time, he was alone, restless and laying in the last place he wanted to be.

It’s not that the beds in the medbay were uncomfortable to recover or something, at 22 years old Damian knows he probably slept more in them than in his own bed, but they are not the suitable place to have a nightmare induce by guilt and then pretend to calm down.

Taking himself a few seconds to rest quietly, he evaluated how was his body and the damage he had suffered in the explosion. Obviously, all hurt, but he had survived worse things. If he had to guess he’d say a couple of bruised ribs, his head about to explode because of the concussion and the left side of his torso a bit hit.

To all of this, he must also add his wounded pride, disappointment, anger and a pleasant memory of a few years ago turned into a nightmare that still had him looking at the ceiling of the cave in silence.

But something tells him that he had been very, very lucky. He had left smaller explosions than that with more injuries, and sometimes he didn’t need the explosion itself.

_“And being so small, you sure get in big problems, demon spawn.”_

Sure.

Maybe Jason was right, even now, when he is no longer small, he faces problems and these can still knock him, even with his height. He knows he almost reached Jason’s height -maybe there’s still a few inches left- but he surpassed Tim a long time ago.

It’s a shame he can’t prove it.

He started to remember exactly that nightmare and the voices of his brothers full of hatred and indifference again when the door of the room opened and the only person he wanted to see now and forever entered quietly. Who, casually, was the same person who told him to go to Gamorra was an stupid idea, who had been yelling at the comms when everything gone wrong and who probably saved him and brought him back to be treated.

Jonathan Kent, with 19 years old, dropped the clean linen which he had been carrying in his hands -possibly for him and providing by Alfred- and rushed to his side letting out a gasp when he realized he had opened his eyes.

“Damian!” He shouted leaning on the bed and looking at him in concern. “You’re awake!”

He should have said something witty, but he couldn’t help but wince when Jon laid in the mattress, his ribs and bruises protesting in agony.

“I’m sorry!” He apologized, walking away immediately, more worried if possible. “Did you just wake up? How do you feel? You need something?”

Usually, seeing Jon so frantic, worried and fluttering his hands over him without knowing what to do it’s good, but now only made him feel a little guilty, and he had a lot of that these days. Especially if he remembers how many times his partner told him how bad his idea was and how his voice sounded in panic in the comms when he couldn’t answer after the explosion.

“I just want to sit.” He snorted, ignoring all his previous questions, leaning on his elbows and sitting up in the bed, obviously with his help. “How long have I been out?”

“Only day and a half.” Said the super, sitting on the side of the mattress with unusual calm.

It wasn’t much, but enough for that Jon’s presence didn’t amuse Batman at all and the situation intimidated his partner at the same time. Because it was a fact that the kryptonian had been with him, waiting him for wake up and without accepting any other alternative that would involve separate from him.

But at least, now that he’s sitting and moving, he can confirm that his injuries could have been worse. He lifted his clothes and looked at the bruised on his left side, serious and rather sleazy, nothing more. He touched lightly his ribs, and the wound and bandage on his head too. Finally, he reached the conclusion that with a few days of rest, painkillers and maybe a quiet patrol he will be okay.

Or maybe not, because while he was valuating his state Jon had been too silent all the time, just staring and waiting, thoughtful and absorbed.

Damian lifted his head to look at him at the eyes, and when the gaze was finally returned, he knew exactly what was coming and started to prepare himself for the imminent outbreak. Jon sighed, his blue eyes flashed with determination, he took a breath and Damian could tell by the expression on his face that this could take a while.

“You have any idea of how lucky you were?” He began to rant.

He has, he can imagine. But instead of saying it, he reflected briefly how it was that since so soon in their youth that Jon managed to be part of that small group of people who can talk to him like that without any repercussion.

“The explosion destroyed about five blocks away! And I’m not gonna talk about the fires from later!”

Rare thing, because supposedly, the terrorists he was chasing shouldn’t have had material for an explosion of such dimensions, indeed, there shouldn’t have been an explosion at all. Maybe was something else?

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” Jon snapped with that upset and sad look typical from the supers. “Did I?”

He did, several times, yes. Which he ignored deliberately. At least it was something that hadn’t change in him after all these years, unlike his willingness to answer and retort to fight like kids when something like this happened when they were… kids.

“I did!” He exclaimed as he pointed at him, which made him reminded Lois Lane very much when she used to spoil them years ago. “And you listened to me?”

You only must look at him to know the answer.

“No! Because you always do this! You didn’t even wait for me!”

True, he didn’t wait for him. He decided to go for it alone, because it was much easy to punish himself and drown in his own regrets while he believed that Jon needed to do the same thing in Kansas while he was visiting his family.

“I heard the explosion from the farm.” Said the other while stared at him and twisted the sheets in his hands tightly. “I was tuned because I thought… I knew you were there, and then you didn’t answer in our comms.”

Again, Jon’s words in his ear, begging him to answer and saying he was going to find and help him, echoed in his head, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“A-And when I arrived, everything was chaos and fire… There was so much to do, and I couldn’t help everyone. I-I found you unconscious and half buried in the rubble…”

He has started to stammer; Damian knows where that leads.

“You’re not invulnerable, Damian!” He cried increasingly frantic. “You could have…! You could have…!”

Damian decided he had had enough when he realized that Jon was physically unable to finish the last sentence and his eyes had begun to glow due to hold back the tears.

So, knowing it was the best way to calm him down and let him know he was okay, he raised his arms quickly to cradle his face in his hands and bent to shut up Jon with a kiss. A firm and a simple kiss, that gave them comfort, took them back to reality and dispelled the tension in their bodies.

When he finished, he pulled back a few inches and looked at him seriously, making sure he had his full attention.

“I’m fine.” He said as he slightly tightened his grip on his face. “See?”

He’s okay, he’s not dead, he’s here and they are together. He didn’t need to worry; he will recover in a few days. Jon’s not going to lose him, that’s what he needed to hear, to know, to feel desperately after having gone through all and have been waiting for him to wake up.

Jonathan looked at him stunned, indecisive for a few seconds, assimilating the most recent events without move. Finally, when he seemed to connect everything, he blushed, reached the pillow behind Damian and proceeded to hit him several times with the minimal strength a super could have.

“You. Are. A. Jerk!” He repeated a lot of times, along with other insults, as he hit him with the pillow.

Damian could have complained, even fight back, or at least tell him that no matter how many times he kisses him or tell him that he is okay, his wounds doesn’t appreciate a surprise attack from an angry kryptonian with a pillow. But he knew his boyfriend needed this, he needed to blame him after worried him that much. And a pillow fight wasn’t the best option right now, and maybe, _maybe_ , he deserved it just a little, so he allowed him to hit him. And they say that Damian Wayne has no honor.

By the time Jon had finished his attack, Damian had no choice but to lie back in bed, helpless and with a super on top of him, but being careful not to touch his wounds. Finally, Jon throwed the pillow around and looked at him from his position, sulking and puffing.

“You scared me.” He declared in a whisper. “A lot.”

“I know.” Damian nodded and stepped aside in the bed in a subtle invitation to the other.

Taking the invitation, Jon laid beside him with the utmost care and settled down to feel him close, resting his head on his shoulder and sighing heavily.

“I’m still angry.” He murmured in a bad mood, but the way he relaxed against his side indicated the opposite.

But Damian just nodded again. He could understand how annoying Jon was, it was fair, he would also be furious. Moreover, he was, two years ago, on this date. When Jon thought it was a great idea to get drunk in the morning with something from the space, throw away a tractor in the afternoon because “he didn’t like the color” and have a fist fight with aliens with a possibly hostile intentions on the night.

At least two years ago Jon came out of that presumably well, which Damian couldn’t relate, because all his failure now is added to his memories and the damn date. And it was the day, right? They knew it was. That day, that date, drives them crazy and wait them to not do something stupid is impossible.

“I understand and I know you’re sorry.” Jon ended saying on his collarbone, gloomy. Of course, he understands, he had to. “But don’t do this to me again, please.”

Yes, he was sorry, and grateful that Jon knew him well enough to know how sorry he was, but how much he struggles to admit it. Instead, he grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers, and squeezed in response.

Both of them knew that the last thing was hard to do, seeing their records and the life they have, it was impossible, and maybe the next time it’s Damian who would have to be a day and half waiting for his boyfriend wakes up while his family watch.

Speaking of that…

“I don’t want to be here.” Damian whispered, staring at the ceiling of the cave again with intensity.

“I know, me neither.” Jon admitted sinking a little closer.

Damian tried not to think about how hard it had to be for his partner, not only having to save him and take him here to be treated and then wait, but also having to walk around the cave precisely those days and next to a broken batfamily who didn’t know how to assimilate them.

“How much time do we have?” He asked, making calculations of those who should return soon and those who not. He knew that, no matter how worried Jon was, he was going to help him to evade the bats, to pack up and fly together to Metropolis.

“Enough” Jon affirmed as he leaned in to kiss him softly in the cheek.

Damian sighed, calculating their chances again. They would go anyway, this was not the first time they did it, and even with a day and a half late they had more than one reason to want to get out from the cave and leave Gotham as soon as possible.

And if they could avoid looking at the suits of Red Robin and Red Hood exposed in the fallen’s mausoleum, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how was that?
> 
> As I said, sorry if I had any typos or sm wrong, I will take any advice and constructive criticism to help me improve!
> 
> And related to this fanfic, yes, this is a thing I wanted to do for a long time and I'm really excited and nervous to start it, I was strugglin for thirty minutes only to write the summary and reading it to be sure it's okay, really. This is only the first chapter, so I won't say much and try to keep out the mystery but I don't know if I did well enough, but the plot has to go on, I avoided many tags because it's spoiler and I have many chapters to write. So just wait for it if you liked!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading if you do so !!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again ~ How you doing?
> 
> First I want to say thank you to all who readed the last time, I was so happy! I don't ever knew if anyone would be interested in read this story first, and being new in the fandom, not native and without write for a long time and everything, I was a little nervous, but all of you encouraged me! Here's the second chapter and I expect to make easy the quarantine to those who have to do it, please everyone be strong and careful in this difficult times!
> 
> And now talking about other things, this chapter has a different POV and some things about the plot are revealed, I tried to do well enough, so enjoy it! As usual, please forgive me if I have some mistakes and grammatical errors, I will talk more in the end notes.
> 
> Thank you ~

**_Now._ **

****

“Jon.” Damian said exasperated and turning around to look at him in the most stoic way as possible. “If you ask me again how I’m doing, I’m leaving.”

Jon snorted with amusement and looked at him irritated, then shook his head and repeated to himself again that Damian seemed fine, he had shown no sign of otherwise and his boyfriend didn’t like when he acts as if he would break at any time, even when he was badly wounded.

But no one could blame him for being worried at all, not only by the fact that Damian had just woke up less than an hour ago after being unconscious for 36, but also because the “bat standards” for wounds and injuries consists on undervalue all of them, “Oh, this? I got stabbed twice last night, a slow patrol, you know.” “Can you pick me up? I can’t stand up anymore and I have an exam tomorrow, quickly.” “Don’t leave please, I have a concussion and I can’t sleep.” “Why are you crying? It’s just a gunshot.”

“You won’t.” He replied with a sight, looking at Damian with a tired smile, who stared back at him and raised an eyebrow, as if this was a challenge or something.

He won’t, because both were exhausted, either by sneaking around and nearly dying in an explosion, or by being up all-night waiting for the other to wake up. Different experiences, same result.

Packing the few things Damian had was fast, and they were lucky that there was nobody around to question anything to them. So, they had time enough to prepare and fly away to Metropolis safely.

Jon had made sure to go slowly and prudent enough to not disturb Damian during the flight, but when they arrived the city he escaped from his grasp and started walking hastily to their apartment. That’s when Jon started to ask if he was fine, but maybe he had already reached that limit for today.

“I could.” Damian said, still in his pride. “But you would chase after me.”

He let out a surprised giggle and put on better the glasses he uses in his civilian identity, although is not necessary right now, when there was nobody outside at these hours and they were only three blocks away from the apartment.

“Of course.” He said in a joke as he approached to him. “And If I caught you, I would ask again how you feel.”

Damian snorted and rolled his eyed, but he didn’t get away when he came a little closer, and grabbed his hand back when he reached it, walking beside him and cradling their hands in silence.

Jon smiled, in love and leaving that soft and warm feeling flooding him for a moment. He always starts the touches and affectionate gestures, but Damian never denies them and always tries to give them back. And even if they usually didn’t do this in public -because of that extensive column courtesy by Vicky Vale about “Damian Wayne and his college boyfriend.”- today was an exception.

They were a block away from the apartment, in their own world and in a comfortable silence when his phone vibrated in his pocket, again. He searched it into his pants with a grunt and a bitter feeling in his stomach.

“Your father?” Damian asked indifferent.

“You bet.” He answered upset and finally getting the phone to look at the screen. “Yes, of course.”

He didn’t even have his number saved in contacts, but he knew it was him. It was the same number that called him multiple times every few days, that he leaves ringing without answer until finally stops.

Just what he was going to do now.

“How many times he called today?” Damian asked again, walking into the building. They had finally arrived.

“With this? About eleven.” He said annoyed and walking after him as the mobile screen turned off. “You should have seen him yesterday.”

The other said nothing, he only called the elevator. There was not much to say after all, none of them were on good terms with their parents lately, and yesterday was a delicate date for everyone. He knew Clark hoped to talk to him because he always was more neurotic than usual then, especially with that incident two years ago.

Too bad he would not give him the chance.

He had pressed the button to go to their floor when his phone rang again in his hand, making him twitch in anger. Really? He hadn’t even had time to do nothing before another call. It’s over. He grabbed the phone to turn it off when he realized the number was different.

Both, he and Damian, were frozen for a few seconds, because it was a number they knew from memory, but they didn’t want to answer at all.

And when the elevator reached their floor and opened the doors, he reacted and in one swift movement he cut off the call.

“It’s because I have mine off.” Damian explained after the tense silence, with a tired expression and getting off the elevator.

“And he expected us to be in the cave, I know.” He answered following him and taking the keys, at this point he just want to lie down and sleep for three days as minimum.

In normal circumstances, anybody would think staying in the cave to recover from their injuries and rest is the best choice. Which led some bats to assume that they would be there when they get back, which is clearly not happening.

And none of them was in the mood to deal with Dick Grayson, much less today. So, hang up and pretend they don’t see anything is the best course of action.

When the door was finally opened, he had already muted his phone, and both rushed to take off their shoes while Jon closed it behind him.

Damian was laying them just as he liked when he suddenly stiffened and stood guard, and Jon took a few moments to realize it was because he had noticed the TV sound on the living room and the another presence in their apartment, which he forgot to tell him before.

“It’s Kon.” He explained as he placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “I said him I would be here, and we were supposed to talk in the farm…”

Yes, they supposed. Because he had to leave early when he heard the explosion and leave that conversation for another time, even if he and his brother clearly needed it. Kon understood, of course, even asked if he could help, but Jon refused, and he had been sending messages to him after everything was under control. That morning he told him that he could stay in the apartment if the farm was too much, which it was, apparently.

Damian turned around and nodded, understanding what happened and letting out the tension of his body, it wasn’t the first time nor the last Kon stayed with them and slept on their couch -and vice versa-. Then he looked up and bowed his head reluctantly to the living room, in a kind of silent question.

“No, it’s okay. I got this.” Jon shook his head and tilted slightly to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “You go and rest, you need help with…?”

He asked that looking at the bandages on his head, and he didn’t want to think about how it has come to become part of their everyday life and normal for them to take care of his injuries.

But the bat shook his head and muttered again he was fine, and Jon had no choice to believe it.

“Okay, then go. I will be there in a moment.” He agreed with a sigh and forcing himself to separate from Damian to let him go to their room.

He took his stuff and get ahead to go to bed, what Jon was looking forward to doing so, but not without checking up his brother and tell him they were fine, of course. He watched his boyfriend go until he turned down the hallway and then Jon walked into the living room.

He was ready to tell Kon it was better to talk tomorrow, because he was too tired, frustrated and stressed out after all that had happened, but seeing the state of the other super when he walked in, that was not necessary.

Kon-El was fallen asleep on the couch, in an awkward position, with the remains of his dinner and beers scattered around the table and the TV as a background noise.

Jon looked at him quiet and holding his breath for two minutes approx. before deciding what to do. Then, he sighed deeply to focus, reminded himself how Kon had decided to be his big brother after all, and started to work.

First, he turned off the TV, which was in the news and commenting about the devastating explosion in Zodome, apparently compounded by circumstances under investigation; He ignored it and then reached one of the blankets they had in the living room to cuddle on the couch, approaching it to accommodate Kon as he could. He did it with all the patience and care possible, because Kon was tall, big and used to move a lot while sleeping, so he laid him with tact and hoping he wouldn’t fall at night. Luckily, he was a heavy dreamer, so he didn’t even react when was laid and his head was rested on a cushion, just sighed heavily and wrapped himself in the blanket.

After making sure Kon was comfortable, Jon turned and picked up the trash from the table, which was nothing more than a pizza and beer, many beer cans.

Jon complained, tired, as he walked into the kitchen with everything in his hands and tossed them away on the trash can without hesitation.

A few years earlier he would have wondered why Kon bothered to drink those beers and in such quantity, when it was obvious alcohol didn’t affect them at all because of their kryptonian metabolism and how this erase every toxin easily and quickly in their bodies. But he knew why, it was because of the feeling of being ordinary, normal and _human_ , and those things could give them that. He had been there and had done that, because it’s almost the same reason why Clark and everyone have their civilian identities, but on a smaller scale.

They need to feel human, even if they aren’t. And Jon knows what it is, he knows it, he knows how it was growing up, being a teenager and seeing everyone around him drinking, going to parties, being careless, reckless, having fun, when he… He couldn’t, physically or mentally, because if the city or the world was attacked and Superman was too busy being a semi-absent father, who was going to leave the party earlier to fight back? Exactly, Superboy. Both of them.

So, yes, if Jon drinks sometimes in a few parties or Wayne galas to feel normal and socially included, Kon could try to drown his sorrows in alcohol even if it didn’t affect him at all.

Moreover, as he stared at the last beer he have to throw away in his hand, Jon remembered he was the last person with rights to judge his brother for something like this when he certainly drowned exactly those same sorrows in alcohol two years ago.

He wasn’t even thinking, it was stupid.

He was 17, it had been the same date, and everything had happened four years ago. He was in Kansas with Ma and Pa, trying to escape the emotional exhaustion that meant to him being in Metropolis those days and the thoughts that haunted him mind, not exactly happy. But just like Damian 36 hours ago, he hadn’t kept in mind the fact that he would be equally emotionally unstable wherever he was or whatever he did.

So, he was helping Pa doing some farm work, trying to get distracted and not to sink into the swamp that were his memories. When suddenly, his grandpa commented with sympathy, to liven up the atmosphere and surely comfort him, that every time Tim Drake was on the farm visiting Kon he offered himself to help in any way he could, but that didn’t go well because he was a tiny little city boy, who Pa also missed a lot because of his kindness and courage.

The next thing Jon remembers was saying he needed rest and drink something, and because of some reason his mind came to the conclusion that “something” had to be a liquor from a distant planet which his father had kept in the barn during years, and seemed to affect kryptonians too.

He can’t explain exactly what he was thinking or why. When he found the bottles and began to open them one by one, his head was nothing but mixed and blurred thoughts, crashing and eddying a kind of static noise, and he only wanted to stop it, to stop it quickly and at any price. And the unmistakable memory of Billy Batson at his 19, in their comms, drunk, at 4 am and saying, “I forgot how to breathe, I’m gonna die?” was good enough to grab the first bottle and drink.

And while he drank, he recalled Jason Todd’s voice, smiling and cheerful, telling him about how children like him shouldn’t drink, but in Gotham everything was possible, and when he turns 18, maybe he took him and Damian somewhere to celebrate something.

Liar. Fucking liar, he wasn’t going to do it. That wasn’t going to happen, and the reminder formed a lump in his throat that made him drank more and stronger.

The rest of the day are pieces and brief flashes in his mind.

He remembers to cry, he remembers to mourn, and he remembers to fight against aliens whose race still don’t know but supposedly saved the planet from them. And he also remembers to send flying away the neighbor’s tractor sobbing, which was never found again, and he ended up paying with his money anonymously.

If he did anything more that day, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t remember, and nobody had commented or asked anything rather than the damn tractor and why was an innocent victim of his drunk wrath.

Which he already knows, because he can get back at the exact moment when he left the barn, looked up and saw in the distance the red tractor, shining in the grass and laughing at him at the distance.

Red.

It was red.

Red. Just like Red Robin’s uniform, like Red Hood’s helmet, like Tim’s favorite tie for the galas, like Jason’s favorite sweatshirt which Tim also used with a pleased smile, like Tim’s pencil case that he brought up to his house when helped him with homework, like the wrapping paper which had all the books that Jason gave him on special occasions, courtesy, according to him.

Just like the blood on Robin’s gloves six years ago.

The last beer was thrown away into the trash can with more strength needed, making the sound of metal and the trash crashing into the ground resound through the kitchen and the apartment in general.

Jon looked absent at the front, clenching his fist and trying to control his breathing, to calm down. He knew he wasn’t being done himself any good drowning in his thoughts again, not now, not today, not after been in the cave waiting for Damian and fighting with his instincts not to run away at any time. If he hadn’t lost control then, now it doesn’t make any sense.

But he couldn’t help briefly turn his head to see the calendar on the fridge, to then look again into the living room where Kon was still sleeping, with no signs of waking up from the previous noises but frowning in dreams.

Six years, six years.

His brother had lost his best friend six years ago.

He had lost Tim, his ally, his buddy, his mate, his partner, _his Robin_. And there was nobody in the entire multiverse able to know how important that was, how much it had to hurt, how miserable he had to feel, but Jon.

He could understand why he didn’t want to approach the farm, because the place was filled with memories of them together, and Ma and Pa sometimes gives them _that_ look which seems to say “I’m sorry.”; And he could understand why he wanted to be with him this day and just talk, talk about nothing and everything, pretend that they are normal and nothing happened, even if their worlds aren’t the same. Because Kon had lost a part of himself, and Jon knew if something like that happened to him, if he loses his Robin, he would be crazy, insane.

The lump in his throat had returned, with tears about to fall and sinking feelings in his chest that oppressed him. And this time he didn’t have anything to drink to make him forget, but neither wanted.

Enough for tonight, it’s over.

He swallowed, rubbed his eyes, shook his head and recomposed himself to get out from the kitchen and see Kon for the last time. He ended up wishing him a good night as covered him better with the blanket, leaving a soft kiss on his temple. After that, he turned off the lights and went to his own room, exhausted.

When he entered, it was the sight of Damian, laid on his side and turning his back, what received him. And while he undressed and take off his glasses to get comfortable as soon as possible, he made sure Damian was sleeping by his deep and slow breathing, but surely uncomfortable because of the wounds, judging by the tension on his body.

Again, a pang of worry and guilt kicked him as he get rid of his dirty and sweaty shirt to change it for a more loose and comfortable one, because he should have convinced Damian better to not go to Gamorra, he should have stayed at his side, he should have been with him instead of going to Kansas, he should have known better that none of them would think or act with his right mind yesterday, and he didn’t.

And he knew he couldn’t help it, he can’t be everywhere and not _all_ was his fault, but at this point and after being in the cave, he was no longer sure about that.

When he put on the rest of his pajamas, he reached his phone to see the last five missed calls in it. Two were from Clark, three were from Dick.

He ignored them all, turned off the phone and threw it over the mountain of clothes. He was not going to touch it again until the next morning, maybe more, he has the day off.

He rushed to the bed, got under the blankets and within seconds he had pressed against Damian to embrace him from behind, putting his arm over his waist and sticking as much possible to spooning while sleeping, being sure that Damian would not get away from him or be mad at the morning, even he seemed to relax in his touch as the tension disappeared, making Jon sighed with relief.

He buried his face in his Robin’s nape and closed his eyes tightly, concentrating on his breathing, his scent, the sensation of his body against him and at his side. He forced himself to sleep, hoping not to dream that night.

But he did.

Jon dreamed that night. He dreamed about many things, about memories turned into nightmares, some which already were, about shouts, cries and voices repeating the same things over and over again while accusing fingers full of hatred pointed at him, judged him.

Six years, six years.

In his dreams, he saw Bruce wandering in the cave just like the day before, like a ghost, walking and standing for hours in fronts of Red Hood and Red Robin’s suits; He saw Dick crying and looking at a fixed point on the cave’s floor, remembering something he shouldn’t; He saw Cass looking at everyone quiet, sad and melancholic, with an afflicted look and without knowing what to say or _how_ to say it; He saw Stephanie being an indecisive and insecure disaster, so unusual in her; He saw Alfred putting two more dishes on the table without realizing it, and then take them back without a word; He saw Damian leaning against his room door, tears pouring his cheeks and ready to fall apart, making his heart _hurts_ ; And he saw Kon, his older brother, in panic, shouting desperate “I can’t hear him!” “I can’t hear anything!” “Nor his voice, nor his heartbeat, nothing!” “Why can’t I hear him?!” 

Six years. Tim and Jason vanished exactly six years ago.

At the end of the night, Jon’s nightmares brought him to the cave again. To a dark and cold place where the voices and cries of all were stronger and resounded everywhere, sinking like daggers in his heart; Where the Batfamily pointed and looked at him with hatred and blame, again and again, shouting at him with disgust and aversion; Where an angry and a furious Batman threw in in the face how he had lost his sons, his children. All while he fell apart and crumbled right in front of where rested Red Robin and Red Hood’s suits, bent on the floor with a note stuck on them.

Yes.

Tim and Jason disappeared without a trace six years ago.

And it was his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, how was it?
> 
> I don't know what to say first, there's just so many things in my mind and I don't want to bore you all in the author's notes (?)
> 
> Related to the fic in general: I will try to update weekly, actually I'm writing something everyday just to maintain a rutine and being constant, but maybe this could change at any time due to my responsabilities and because I always write in two languages (first in Spanish and then I translate everything in English) so be patient if some week I can't update. About the chapters I will do them around 2-3K words -or maybe more bc I know myself-, with different POVs and some of them will be just flashbacks to get deep in the plot and characters relationships. I will be adding tags as I update too, because many of them would be spoilers, so stay tuned!
> 
> And then, related to this chapter, I love Jon! He has been one of my favourites since I started on DC and he's my precious little boy, I tried to write him as well as I could, with a pure heart and caring for others, but upset about what's happening in the fic, bc, you know (?) In this house we don't talk about that 17 years old Jon thing made by B*ndis too, he doesn't exists for me, because I think one of the best things about Jon and Damian was to see about how they could grow up together and learn about life little by little, DC has just wasted and incredible opportunity to develop amazing characters and situations, and Jon being close to Kon -this isn't being canon is literally a sin for me- and Batfam bc of his friendship with Damian is something I consider ratherly cute, possible and an amazing headcanon with so much potential, so here it is!  
> And about the others thins hinted in this chapter, I'm still trying to maintain the mystery (?)
> 
> I think I just talked too much here, sorry, I always like to clear things after writing them. Thank you so much If you read so and stay safe!
> 
> See ya ~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ~
> 
> Glad to see all of you again, how are you doing? Here's the chapter of this week, ready and just finished right in time! I don't know what to say this time in author's note, I just had started online classes and I'm in quarantine too during my exchange studies, that's a little sad but I'm doing my best, hope all of you too! Once again thanks you so much to all who readed this, I'm so happy you liked it and I hope you like this chapter as well ~
> 
> Now enjoy ~

**_Now_ **

A jolt woke him up.

A jolt followed by a hard squeeze on his hip and an intelligible whisper beside him.

It’s not as if Damian had expected to sleep well tonight, he even didn’t expect to sleep _at all_. When they arrived at the apartment, he was ready to spend all night staring at the ceiling quiet and trying not to think too much. However, he underestimated how tired he was and how much his wounded body needed to rest, so he was fallen asleep before realizing it.

But even if he didn’t want much rest, waking up agitated and listening sobs behind him wasn’t a good way to start the day.

“Jonathan.” He said fully awake and shaking from his grasp. “Nightmare.”

The super was still holding him tightly, carelessly and causing Damian grumbled for the treatment to his injuries, while the other was breathing restless and mumbling apologies in dreams.

“Nightmare.” He repeated aloud. “It’s a nightmare. Wake up.”

It’s neither the first nor the last time any of them have an unpleasant dream and awakes the other. Indeed, it would be very sad to admit it willingly but is also part of their lives and work so far, nightmares come hand in hand with superheroes’ duty and they had worse episodes than this in the past, like everyone else, right? That’s why Damian didn’t want to sleep, he knew something like this would happen again.

He didn’t get rid of his embrace but could barely turned around to shake his shoulder and wake him up as the other seemed to hesitate in his dreams, not cheerful at all.

“Jon!”

Panting hard and trembling, Jon finally opened his eyes, yet some sleepy and groggy, shrugging himself and looking around nervously as he woke up completely.

“Dami?” He asked in a whisper and still clinging around him tightly, as if he couldn’t believe he was talking to him.

“You were dreaming.” He explained hastily still squirming in his grip.

Jonathan fell silent a few seconds, tears about to fall, frowning, sweating and taking his breath back. He calmed down a bit and was apparently back in the real world, assimilating it was a nightmare, but didn’t make him feel better seemingly.

With a miserable expression on his face, he realized how strong he was clinging to Damian and how he was trying to free himself, letting him go immediately and away from him as if he were on fire.

“I’m sorry.” Jon said quickly as he sat on the mattress, rubbing his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry, you okay? It was not my intention, sorry.”

Damian shook his head, looking at him from his position without moving. It wasn’t nothing important, Jon just squeezed him a little like a plushie and was a bit annoying, maybe his bruises were worst, but were minor wounds first so he didn’t care at all.

But he knew Jon cares, and looking at him away, shuddering and breathing deeply to relax, gave him enough proofs to know whatever he had dreamed about had shook him to the point to sobbing in his sleep, and add to that an apparent guilt for unintentionally hurting him didn’t help at all.

Sometimes nightmares shake Jon like that, leaves him emotional, overloaded and saturated with everything, and Damian hadn’t come to establish a way to help him cope with it yet. Because there were other variables to consider, such as the mood, date, time or the type of nightmare, and none of them appeared to be favorable now.

But if Damian knows something, is that he hates to see Jon cry. He hated it since he was 13 and still do strongly. Jon crying gives him a rare, visceral and unpleasant sensation on his chest that seems to pull it from inside, willing to rip him. He couldn’t stand it.

When they were kids, he thought it was because he despised how someone powerful and strong as Superboy, with such potential, could show much weakness and so openly. Then, he realized it was precisely the opposite, that what he really hated was how he felt when Jon seemed to trust him so easily to be vulnerable around him. That left him scared, hesitant and unsure just by having a friend, a _real_ friend, who didn’t think he was going to stab him at any moment -something that neither him was sure in those times-. But sometimes he was also jealous, because Jon felt safe and confident enough to express himself and being weak in front of anyone, and Damian… never had that before, until then, he only had the strong statement that he would be killed and replaced if he showed any weakness or proof of not being a worthy heir.

“Habibi.” He called his attention, waiting his hesitant look to lie sideways on the bed and extend his right arm on the pillow, in a clear invitation.

Jon seriously seemed to doubt it, quiet and evaluating the situation, as if he would hurt him only by lying there together. Damian snorted at him angrily, scolding him with his eyes until Jon realized how stupid he was and gave up, lying back and resting his head on his arm as he embraced him completely and buried his face in his neck.

Even if he still didn’t know exactly how to help Jon when he had nightmares, he knew that physical contact helps when it happens. And even though Kent was the most tactile and affectionally open in their relationship, at least Damian now was more used to receive affection and answer to it. Actually, it’s one of the few things that Grayson did right for once.

He felt how the tension in his mate’s body disappeared as they spent more time in that position, quiet and enjoying other’s touch, trying not to break the momentarily peace. After a while Jon no longer looked like he was going to cry imminently and relaxed as he caressed his free hand down his back, slowly drawing patterns. But, of course, Damian knew the exact moment he would speak to say something stupid when he felt him getting some air.

“Don’t apologize again.” He cut him off quickly. “You didn’t hurt me, so drop it.”

He would not let him think about it too much, because he knew how easy it was to do that after waking up sobbing.

“You know it’s not only for that.” Said Jon seriously and outrage in his tone.

Damian froze, his hand still on his back and his arm starting to get numb cause of the weight on it. He tried to pull away to look at Jon, but he sank more into his neck, hiding from scrutiny, as if he feared his reaction.

He should have known, the apologies now made sense.

He sighed, not really knowing what to say or what to do.

“Then, do you think I should also apologize?” He asked, doubtful.

That’s what made Jon move and look at him with alarm in his eyes, surprised and with a questioning expression. It’s not as if Damian hadn’t improved in giving encouragement or comfort to people in general, but this was a special case, and both knew they needed a different approach to be reasonable.

“No.” Jon said angrily, like what he was saying was crazy.

“And why you did? What’s the difference?”

Jon stayed quiet, his lips in a fine line and blinking, in conflict. His reasoning had fallen completely, and he was obviously trying to save it, but it was useless.

It’s so simple, if Jon didn’t think that Damian had to apologize, then Jon didn’t have to. Easy.

“B-Because I-” He started to stammer, willing to discuss.

“No.” He cut him off.

“But I-”

“No.” He cut him off again, tilting his weight over him gradually.

“But it’s my fault that-”

“No.” He repeated freeing his arms and laying above him completely, crushing him with his weight.

“I gave them-”

“Stop.” He ordered covering his mouth with one hand.

“Mnph!”

“I said stop.”

“…”

“You know, I don’t care if you lick and drool on my hand, you’ve licked me other things.”

The answer to that was a strong bite. He complained, putting his hand away in disgust, then looked at him raising an eyebrow as Jon just glared back with a defiant stance despite the embarrassed blush on his face. Then, Damian looked at his drooled hand and decided to clean it in the best place: Jon’s face.

“Argh! Gross!” Jon shriek squirming beneath him as he rubbed his hand where he could reach. It was known that Jon could lift him and ran away without effort, but no longer worth it, Damian was too fast and saliva has returned to its birthplace.

“You started it.” He declared at the end and looking at him seriously, as if it were a serious matter instead of… Drool. “And that’s you get for thinking too much.”

The last statement made Jon sigh and give him that resigned expression that seemed to say, “I did it, right?”, to which he nodded.

As he thought at the beginning, it was easy to sink into the negative thoughts once you have awakened from a nightmare induced by guilt. He would also done that if Jon hadn’t appeared back in the cave, right in time to distract him.

And it’s not as if they could say directly to each other that was not their fault and that’s it. It was, they know, and this isn’t work that way. They couldn’t get up one morning and be free of any impact or repercussion of what they had caused indirectly around them with their decisions, because they were very aware of them every day.

But they also knew not _all_ was their fault. There was more than one player in the game, and they were not the main ones.

It’s easy to think otherwise in the worst moments while you hear the accusations of your head, but once you stop to think about it and there’s someone to lift you up hitting with a pillow or drooling in your hand, you keep going and realize it doesn’t have to be like that, you shouldn’t have to apologize for everything.

Sitting up, Jon lifted his arms around his neck to make him lean and kiss him firmly, what he didn’t hesitate to correspond. He knew it was his way to say thanks for calm him; So, when they separated, he just smiled with a shrug. Damian knew Jon would have done the same for him, he would say that, but the affection in Jon’s look was replaced by fun, and he couldn’t react in time to escape.

“No! Argh!” He cried as Jon hold him and began to lick his face as revenge. “You’re disgusting! Stop!”

Jon just laughed out loud as he kept doing it while Damian tried his best to get away. He swears that his boyfriend sometimes is like a dog, it’s like having Titus with him again. And he’s not laughing too, no, not at all.

And in that room, lighted by the early morning sun, while laughs and tenders’ complaints were heard, both knew that no matter what they or anyone else thought. No one could really apologize and take the full blame for what happened six years ago, not matter what role they played, it’s not going to change anything and nobody needs it, not that.

After all, Tim and Jason ran away willingly.

~ 0.0 ~

That fact remained and was repeated in Damian’s mind as he lit the coffee pot and leaned on the kitchen counter, waiting.

It was half past nine, he still had his hair wet because of the shower minutes ago, his body protested less than yesterday, Jon was taking a shower too, he needed a coffee, to make breakfast and instead he was looking at the calendar absently as he remember.

He just does that, remember. Not wanting to think too much, because he had a lot of that lately.

It had been six years since the day Damian came back to the manor and went down to the cave to find Red Robin and Red Hood’s uniforms bent at the Batcomputer counter with a paper note and didn’t know how to feel.

Today he still doesn’t know how to feel, being honest.

“Goodbye.” The note said.

Just that. Nothing more. Nothing on the back, or written in invisible ink, no codes, no signs anywhere. Nothing. Only a paper with “Goodbye” written on it and over their suits.

And as he sat in the chair in front of the keyboard and watched the scene in silence, Dick and Bruce’s could be heard arguing in the background, angrily and their screams resounded in the cave strongly; Cass wasn't even there, but she would stare at everything in silence if she was, Stephanie was probably crying on a corner somewhere, and Alfred nowhere to be found.

The argument between the other two confirmed that nobody had more news than that, all safes houses were empty, no image/video/audio useful for Oracle and even Kon or Clark couldn’t hear them, indeed, any available meta couldn’t.

They said goodbye and ran away. Just like that.

And sitting there, staring at the fucking paper they left and reading it non-stop, Damian realized it was true, they were gone. His mind seemed to fit in suddenly that it was true and definitive, they were gone for real, and that hit him with so much force that he felt a part of him broke and fall, causing him started to panic just like his family around him trying to find them.

But they didn’t.

There was nothing, _nothing_ , not a minimal detail to hold onto. They had made sure to cover their tracks very well, even the smallest detail, there was not a single clue and, what did they expect to find anyway? Todd was hiding for everyone during years before making his debut as Red Hood and Drake was one of the most valuable assets within technology and intelligence, both had money, contacts, skills, and the most important: reasons to leave.

Drake and Todd’s relationship with the family was _very_ unstable at those times, even dangerous. So, when father found the costumes and the note, he activated all alarms because there was no way it was a joke.

Useless, obviously, they would be already far away by then. And six years later they have still not been found and making Damian look absently at a calendar with pictures of bunnies in it while thinking he didn’t want to buy it but he had to because “we had the puppies one last year Dami, now it’s my turn to choose.”

That and, it would be better if they were dead?

A part of him feels horrible, filthy, despicable only by thinking that. But another, one that sounds like his 10 years old self, says, “it would be?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Because death was one thing that all the family already knew, with which they were already familiar and whose pain had experienced and overcome with time. Something they had witnessed and suffer so often that much to destroy them at the moment, at least they know how to get up and keep moving.

But a disappearance? Voluntarily?

That was something else.

At least death mean that they wouldn’t be there never again -supposedly-, that they were gone forever and that’s it, there was nothing else. They didn’t have to look for clues or ask metas if they can find them. And if they had died, they would fight until their last breath, clinging to life without wanting to leave, he knows.

But leaving a note and running away together is the opposite, it’s worst. At least if it had been a disappearance against his will they would be equally worried, but would have found them eventually, they would have done so. And surely, they would have known they wanted to be home.

But it wasn’t and that’s the problem.

What kind of person he was that sometimes he might wish that his brothers were killed or kidnapped instead of being abandoning him?

Not a very good one, for sure.

But he can’t help it because the situation changes _so much_. Being dead they couldn’t do nothing or going anywhere, but running away and without backup they could meet so many unpleasant and dangerous possibilities; And the fact that they had planned to do everything on their own meant so much things too, and some of them were so, _so_ painful.

As they sought clues and the years passed in blank, they couldn’t help but wonder more and insistently what they’re doing, where they are, or most important, if they are alive.

And if they are, are they happy?

That’s the only thing that makes a little bearable the idea they’re gone. Because if they are, whether they are happy wherever they live, whatever they do, then Damian could make peace with them, with himself and with the fact that they defected and abandoned everything and everyone for that purpose.

If they are, he may believe it worth it, even if in the process they have made it seem as if their lives here, their family, their friends and their identities didn’t matter enough to run away without hesitation.

As if _he_ didn’t matter enough.

The coffee finished behind him and he sighed, giving one last look at the calendar when he turned around to reach a cup and serve.

“You want some?” He asked at the other person in the room.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.” Kon said from the kitchen door, looking at him.

He knew he was there for quite a while, watching him. Moreover, he knew he was already awake when he had entered the kitchen, but he chose to ignore him completely.

Damian leaned back on the counter again, this time with a hot cup of coffee in his hands and looked at his guest. Kon hadn’t change much over the years, he was now an adult, but right now was disheveled, sleepy and his clothes rumpled by sleep on his couch, so he didn’t impose respect.

To be fair, he never imposed him any respect, but now their relationship was more cordial and pacific than before, he’s dating his little brother after all.

“Did you have fun in Zodome?” Conner said with irony and repressing a grin.

And, even so, he still was an annoying jerk.

“Yeah, how about you in the farm?” He asked back.

Conner’s expression soured a little, but enough to consider it a victory.

“Cool.” He lied. “I’m glad to see you can finally reach the cups.”

“I’m glad to see you sleep well. How many times did you fall to the ground tonight?” Damian asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

This time Conner just laughed, shook his head and then gave him that look of fondness/nostalgia that he wasn’t want to locate, because that’s the one he used to give him since he tried to be intimidating during the shovel talk (which didn’t work at all) when he did things official with Jonathan and they started to get better.

However, that look soon turned into a serious one, matching with a tic in his leg and a cautious posture. It seemed that Kon wanted to say something, something important, and didn’t know how or where to start, so he was there trying to establish a plan of action that will surely lead them to an uncomfortable conversation or an argument. And supers really don’t know how to act when they want something, right? Damian just hoped to drink his coffee quietly while Kon learns how to be subtle for once in his life.

“Your brother is taking a shower right now.” He told him after another sip of coffee. “I’m making breakfast, do you want anything?”

“I want a lot of things.” He answered thoughtfully. “But right now, I want to know why my little brother seems to suffer and blame himself more than me every year. And he’s not the only one.”

Subtlety.

Something that Conner Kent doesn’t have at all.

Damian took a few seconds to recover himself from the verbal punch that the other had thrown at him so sincerely and frankly, analyzing what he said and then carefully placing a mask of complete indifference on him. He just pretended to be interested in keep drinking his coffee as if he didn’t hear anything.

His first instinct might have been to attack, saying he didn’t know what he was talking about or better to ask Jon when he got out of the shower, but it wasn’t the wisest choice and he knew it. Not when Kon-El was serious and focused, a lot, judging by the sententious look he had.

“What are you two hiding, Damian?” The he asked, and despite the heavy silence that had settled between them, he approached slowly to him until he was right in front, looking into his eyes and firm as ever. “Because I know you are hiding something, and it’s related to _all_ of this.”

His blood was frozen, the coffee was stiff in his hands and he was using all his effort and strength to keep up the apathetic façade and his heart to a normal rhythm.

“I wanted to ask Jon back in Kansas, but I had no chance.” Kon explained, looking at him harshly. “Six years is a long time, and you have to understand I can’t wait anymore.”

The stern gaze wavered for a moment as saying the last, making Damian glimpsed the pain and grief shining in the eyes that now kept him on the place and made him try to appear calm.

It wasn’t easy for Damian to be aware that he was not the only person that Tim and Jason chose to leave behind, and this situation didn’t help.

“I wasn’t the detective of my team.” Kon said then, his miserable expression making his way ever faster. “But I know when Jon lie. And I know this is how you react when you want to hide something, because Tim told me.”

His world was punched again, causing the façade to crack a little. This is not okay, no, no, this is not okay at all. He didn’t expect a confrontation, not now, not here, not this way.

He pressed the cup between his hands without looking away, valuing his options, not letting his emotions cloud his judgment.

“Damian.” Kon called him reproachfully, yet gently, like a parent scolding a child even though they were almost the same height, like _another_ big brother. “What did you do? What are you afraid of?”

These questions almost made him drop the coffee. Because the answers were so many, so many and shaking his mind, appearing, turning and repeating loudly within him. Reminding him his conflicts and starting to think too much, again.

And Kon, Tim’s best friend, Jon’s brother, looked at him so dejected yet so hopeful of being able to know _something_ that the ability to tell the truth no matter what he know or suspect, or anything in respect, died there.

He was going to attack, attack and retreat. Being sure not to see him again, or not to go near him until he was sure what are his suspicions exactly and how far did he go.

But a sound between them interrupted and dispelled the growing tension in a moment, making them to look at the source of the sound with surprise. Conner’s pocket, his phone.

Damian could relax a minimum when Kon finally turned his attention away from him and gave him some space to answer the call, some unexpected judging by the uneasy expression of him.

He was drinking his coffee again and clearing his mind to appear normal and leave the situation when Kon answered, stood still, blinked and then handed him the phone.

“Is for you.” He said.

Damian frowned and looked at the phone, undecided. He had left his in the bag he had brought from the manor and was off because he knew would get a lot of calls from Grayson playing to be a good brother -what a liar-.

But he thought that if they had come to investigate who might be with him, then call Kon-El and make him pass the phone to him, it’s because it had to be important. So, he left the coffee aside and answered.

“Come back to the manor. Now.” Barbara’s voice said. No Oracle, Barbara. “We’ve found something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it.
> 
> This chapter was easy to translate this time, as I said I'm studying abroad and I practise my english all days in university and all, so I'm really feeling I'm improving, I'm happy yeah!
> 
> About the chapter, well, I love Jon and Damian's relationship and how they treat each other, all the fluff in this fanfic it's because of them until now. But I love the idea about Damian growing up and learning how to be a child and make friends thanks to Jon and their partnership. I tried to reflect how conflicted they feel too about all of this, I always try to be in the character's place and I wouldn't do so well in their case.  
> And well, Tim and Jason, finally you know what happened to them. No, they're not dead, I couldn't do that to them, they're my favorites. And nobody said they were dead, if you remember the first chapter what they said in Damian's nightmare was that they were leaving, literally, yes. And Damian's just trying to cope with it like everyone else. But of course in this chapter was only a little summary about what happened, there's much more, but little by little, okay, remember this fic is Jaytim too and they are my OTP so, just wait!  
> Then there's Kon, I love him too a lot and I don't know if I'm okay about how I written him in this chapter, but clearly Kon is one of the most affected of all of this and he's not stupid, even if he's better with Damian he needs to know the truth, I hope to write well his POV when it's come.
> 
> And the last cliffhanger, just as Jon and Damian's secret, well, we'll see in the next chapters (?)
> 
> I forgot to say in the last chapters I have a Tumblr and I post my fics there too, If you want to ask me something or just talk about anything don't be shy, it's @heartless-error.
> 
> That's all, thank you and see you next week ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ~ How you doing?
> 
> Here's chapter 4, right in time and made with love for all of you (? This week was busy for me but I was excited to post this chapter, it's the first flashback and somewhat emotional, so I hope you like it!
> 
> Have fun!

**_6 years ago_ **

****

“Damian?” Jon asked quietly. “Are you there?”

No answer.

He didn’t expect it either, but the vague concern and suspicion that had led him fly away on a Tuesday evening to go to Gotham and see his partner increased in the back of his mind, along with his patience beginning to wear thin.

****

He held on the window frame and peered silently into the room. The place seemed tidy and same as ever, Damian’s things were in their right place as he liked, and drawings materials with his current notebook were placed on the table, but as if they had not been used recently. That was weird, along with the fact that everything was where it had to be except the owner of the room, who was the person he had come looking for and could not see anywhere.

This made Jon snort in exasperation. He knew Damian was here, he heard him, he _felt_ him. He couldn’t see him, but that wasn’t necessary to find him. Robin couldn’t hide from him, not for long, and that was precisely what he had come to tell him. Because Damian had been avoiding him and thinks it’s for good reason.

Yes. These past two days he had been ignoring him, and it might not be anything, but his instincts told him otherwise, so he fly away and now is upset in front of his window, debating whether to enter or not. But he knew that if he didn’t decide quickly Batman would probably catch him and scold him again for sneaking around Gotham without permission, or worse, Alfred would.

Jon didn’t want to confront Alfred and had flown there for a reason, so taking a decision was very easy.

“I’m going in.” He warned as he entered the room and closed the window and the curtains behind him, just in case.

It was when he was inside and looking around that Jon was increasingly aware that he was here because of a very small and insignificant hunch. It had only been two days since Damian didn’t reply any texts, or calls, or give any signs of life in general. It wasn’t that long, it wasn’t even that much, he might be busy or on some mission, who knows?

But Jon was still irritated and worried. To be fair, that’s how he felt most of the time lately, because he was 13, Ktyptonian puberty was weird and he knew that wanting to talk to Damian and hear from him with such intensity wasn’t common. But he was already there, suspected something was wrong, warned before got in, had certain privileges for being his best friend and he only wanted answers. There was no turning back now.

“Damian?” He asked again as he walked into the room, searching for him and being careful not to touch anything.

As he flew there, he had been wondering how to ask him why hadn’t texted him these days, what his reasons might be, and why he cared so much. But now that Jon was there, those questions along with that part of him that had been worried and screaming in the background intensified as he confirmed part of his suspicions, realizing the unusual silence surrounding the manor, the sad atmosphere dominating the room and where Damian might actually be hiding.

Something’s happened.

He doesn’t know what, or if it’s very serious, but it’s enough for Bruce and his father to be on the phone for hours, for Clark being thoughtful and shocked after that, for break the fragile balance of the manor and for Damian to go to his usual hiding place when something went wrong.

And confirming it, makes the need to see him intensify.

Sighing and approaching the bed, he felt how the unease began to dominate him, as well as the curiosity of wanting to know what happened, how could he help and why it had affected his partner so much. It had to be bad, because it meant Damian hadn’t contacted him because of whatever had happened in Gotham.

At least it hadn’t been because of he’d been dreading internally in silence, that thing about Damian meeting a pretty, wealthy girl of his same age and status in Gotham High, more interesting and adequate than Jon and the one who Damian could end up falling in love, going to prom, marrying and running into the sunset with their countless children to live together forever as he completely forget about him and the special and unique bond they share and… Enough.

C’mon Jon, you’re not doing yourself any favor. And now it’s not the right moment, Jonathan, you have to help Damian.

So, crouching down on the side of the mattress, he grabbed the sheet and lifted it up as he peeked under it.

There were two pairs of green eyes in the darkness under the bed, and only one of them looked at him while the other remained fixed on nothing.

“Dami.” He called him softly.

Whatever has happened has to be big or emotionally conflictive, because Damian only chooses to take refuge under his bed when he has big breakdowns. And right now, seeing how the current Robin is lying on his back on the ground, in silence, without any expression, looking at nothing in the dark and holding his cat on his chest without strength, it was clear that he was fighting with himself more than usual.

“I’m going down there with you, okay?” He said kindly as before.

If he didn’t want it that way, didn’t show any of it. He just stayed just quiet and still as Jon slid under the mattress and lay down, enough close to him so their shoulders brushed.

He wondered if his lack of reaction was because he was too deep in his own head to deny him the entry or because his best friend privileges allowed him to be there. Whatever, he knew Damian was well aware of his presence no matter how much he didn’t show it.

The floor was clean, not cozy but this particular hideaway was always kept pretty decent. Damian never told him in detail, but he knew the reason he tended to hide here or in other tight places when was sad is because made him feel safe in a certain way. During his time in the league, he might have been treated like a prince, but should always be on guard, watching for his surroundings and ready to fight. But if he locked himself in a small place where no one could reach him, he had a moment of solitude and peace, because nobody could attack behind his back nor take him by surprise, he had the control and the security of being vulnerable for a single moment.

It’s also because once, after arguing with Tim over any nonsense that would affect him too much, he hid there. When the third Robin went looking for him he pretended not to find him, and Damian ended up sleeping. When he woke up a while later, he was in bed, tucked up and Tim sleeping next to him. They didn’t speak about it or apologize later, but they didn’t need to.

However, unlike them, Jon need to speak with him now. To know what happened and why of his reaction. As much as the silent support he was used to give him was there, he feared that this time it wouldn’t be enough.

He always feared not to be enough for Damian.

After a few minutes of silence between them, Jon slowly raised his hand to caress Alfred the cat, who had not moved from his place or taken his eyes off him since he joined them, as if wondering what he was doing there, despite being used to his presence.

However, while he was debating how to start the conversation -or whether to start it-, like a good cat he was, Alfred sniffed his hand, allowed him to pet him twice and then got tired, meowed in protest and quickly get off from Damian’s chest to ran away.

Jon didn’t know if apologize to the cat for bothering him or to apologize to Damian for taking away the comfort his pet gave him. But instead he said nothing and lowered his hand again in disappointment, still unsure what to do.

Damian still didn’t react, didn’t even seem sad for the cat’s disappearance, and his concern increased. But when he lowered his hand Jon could feel the touch of his, warm and close, so close, and easy to grab for comfort and to show him that he was still by his side. Would it be okay? How far he could press his luck today?

He was doubting again, almost panicking, when Damian’s voice finally broke the silence, revealing the cause of the entire disaster.

“Todd and Drake are dating.”

He said it in a monotonous and indifferent tone, which was clearly feigned. And at the revelation of that information, Jon tilted his head to stare at him, frowning but not saying anything now that Damian had begun to speak.

“We found out two nights ago, nobody liked it.” He continued, still in that cold and analytical tone. “Grayson and Father argued with them in the cave. Drake ended up crying.”

Jon frowned further and felt Damian’s hand shake lightly, as if he was holding back to clench his fist. He couldn’t blame him, Tim tends a lot to hold back his emotional responses and hide them carefully, everyone knows he has to be very affected and shaken to break like that. He doesn’t want to know what kinds of things could have been said in that fight to make Tim reach that limit, but the expectation causes him an agonizing and alarming discomfort.

“They want them to break up.” Damian said. “Because it’s dangerous, risky and irresponsible.”

This time was Jon who clenched his fist, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

It was common knowledge that bats were very competent as detectives, they could catch rapist, drug dealers or killers with four clues or less. But when it comes to feelings, emotions, or relationships… Well, they had too many secrets, too many risks, and they are too compromised to the crusade to risk anything. They could even saw close friendships as dangerous in punctual moments.

However, Tim and Jason were an even bigger complication, and now he was starting to understand Damian’s conflicts and why he was like this. Because not only was Tim’s civil identity as CEO of WE added to the above, if not also the fact that both had strayed too far from the family -or at least from Bruce- in recent years. The relationship was tense and although he didn’t know the details, resentment was palpable in their interactions, you could tell Batman didn’t like the “Red team” and even Jon was aware that the only reason they put a feet on the manor were Damian, Alfred and Batcow.

Damian, who knew everything now, who had heard the fight and the same cruel words as them, who loved Tim and Jason as brothers more than ever since he started growing up by their side.

Damian, who couldn’t be agreed with those statements because, with him, he knew how happy Tim and Jason could be together.

“They can’t do that.” Jon answered, sighing uneasily. “They’ve been dating for three years already.”

Finally, that was what made Damian look away from the mattress to him, their faces too close, but his eyes sparkling with curiosity and reproach. Silently asking how he knew such detail.

Jon hesitated, not knowing how to answer properly. It had been obvious to him, with the flirting, the looks, the stolen sweatshirts, the shared safe houses, and the close and angry surveillance Kon kept on Hood sometimes. But he chose to say the more obvious and important reason to him.

“I know how a heart in love sounds like.” He replied, looking at the other intently.

Yes, he knew it. Learning to control his super-hearing had helped him to identify those kinds of things over time. And he learned to say what was behind the hearts that skipped a beat when seeing that person, behind those that beat fast when being too close or those who rumbled with strength and vigor just by being together.

He knew it because it was how his and Damian’s had always sounded.

And for a moment they said nothing, they were quiet again, looking at each other in the dim darkness, in their hiding place. Too much to say, too much to feel, too much to talk about. Jon swallowed hard and Damian shuddered in his position.

“They said it’s dangerous… Because Todd tried to kill Drake.” Damian ended up saying, lowering his voice and showing more uncertainty in his tone this time. “Because he was a killer, he was a criminal. And they can’t trust him.”

And there, _there_ , there was the real problem.

The real reason Damian was in that state, hiding under his bed and not wanting to see anyone, not wanting to see him.

Because Jason was a killer, he was a criminal and he tried to kill Tim, just like Damian. And Tim was the youngest prodigy son, estranged, but good at what he does and seen as vulnerable by the other, just like him.

And if Bruce, Dick, and even his own father comforting Bruce on the phone, all those who Damian admired and believed couldn’t trust Jason, couldn’t give him a chance despite knowing he had reformed, he had changed, he had grown up and he _loved_ Tim…

What will they say about them?

Jon immediately moved his hand to grab Damian’s tightly, forgetting his previous doubts and fears, even those of weeks ago, and feeling the discomfort sink his chest.

None of that indicated that they were going to react in the same way to them, it’s different but at the same time there were similarities, the words that were spoken in the cave had to be harsh and the thought of Clark talking to Bruce on the phone as if someone had dead instead Tim and Jason dating made him want to throw up.

“They think he’s going to hurt him.” Damian didn’t grab his hand back, he just said that looking at him still unsure and worried. “That he’s not appropriate, that they are better apart.”

Jon wanted to scream. Because he knew Damian wasn’t just talking about Jason, and people thinking that about him, just like Damian believing that about himself, made him angry, it _hurts_.

“Do you think that too?” He asked with a lump in his throat.

Damian’s hand trembled in his, indecisively. They still hadn’t taken their eyes off each other.

“No.” He answered then, completely sure. As if he didn’t have to ask anyone to find out the answer, and he didn’t. “I know he would rather die again than hurt him, and I know he will fight whatever it takes to be by his side, whether he’s worthy or not.”

The grip on his hand was returned, much stronger and secure than ever. His green eyes shining with determination and courage, saying things that couldn’t yet in words, their hearts beating strongly together again.

“That’s love.” Jon said, almost without breath.

“It is.” Damian replied, lacing their fingers.

Needless to say, they weren’t just talking about Tim and Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was it?
> 
> As I said, this is the first flashblack of many in this fic, and I have to admit it was a little difficult to organize my ideas about how to write it because I have so many, really, the scene could have been much different, but the essence of what I wanted to explain is there, so I assume I did well? 
> 
> Well, I'm not sure what say about this chapter in general, I know many people have different interpretations about Damian's life in the league, his insecurities and how his and Jon's relationship could change among time just like their feelings, there's mine, hope nobody hate them (?) At the same time, it was interesting trying to portray them younger, undecided and with the insecurities that comes with teen ages, changes and being in love with your bestfriend in that moment, yeah. With the above I had to take into the account the plot and context in my story. And don't worry about it, this isn't all of this, of course. More clues are revealed now about what happened exactly and I'm happy. I'm not going to say more because there are still a lot of flashbacks and POVs to write and I think you are okay with this already, right?
> 
> And yeah, it's midnight for me already, I'm tired, but so happy to post here again and glad to know some of you are waiting for this, really! From now on I'll try to answer comments or something just to thanks you, because I really appreciate it, and if you want to talk to me I'm saying again I have a tumblr (@heartless-error), that's all!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and see you next week ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara's POV. That morning, she found something that may lead them to find what they lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Welcome back again, hope everyone is okay ~ Here's this week chapter, a little late than usual but still in time (?) Before reading it just want to say that I have no idea about computing or anything like that, but I tried to explain everything as I can, just forgive me if I have mistakes, as always.
> 
> Nothing more to say here, go on and have fun!

**_Now_ **

****

The sound of the keys being pressed hard and quickly resounded in the room, as well as the light and continuous whisper of the machines on and running around her. The dim morning light leaked slightly into the room, reflecting on the many screens that had been hidden from the public in the watchtower.

Adjusting her glasses better and placing a rebellious lock of hair behind her ear, Barbara read each line, phrase and code that passed on the screen in front of her carefully and methodically.

Although it was early, she had decided not to waste time and get to work immediately on the case that now worried her. After all, Oracle didn’t just guide Gotham vigilantes through the night, she did much more. Also had a few of cases to check out for the Birds of Prey, but she had run into something important the day before that couldn’t wait.

“Here.” Said a figure standing at her side, leaving a steaming and necessary cup of coffee on the counter. She hadn’t even heard him arrive. “Just how you like it.”

That “something” was also the reason his early visitor was there, showing up an hour ago with a promise of coffee and company.

“Thank you.” She said absentmindedly and returning to work as if nothing happened.

She didn’t have to bow her head and look at him to know that Dick was rolling his eyes and smiling at her fondly, she could feel his gaze on her, distilling tenderness and understanding as always did when she was absorbed around him by an important case.

And this certainly was, no matter how much Dick had appeared in the watchtower worried and waiting to talk about a totally different aspect of it.

“Damian knows?” She asked without taking her eyes off the screen, reading the news and recent events as grabbed the cup to take a sip.

As she delighted in the drink’s taste and caffeine starting to pump through her body, Dick pulled out his phone with a dejected aura and turned it on to watch the screen, his face showing nervousness and anticipation. However, that sad and decayed aura grew stronger after verifying he had no calls or messages, then shook his head.

“I’ll try to call him again.” He said, taking a few steps away to not disturb her and dialing Damian’s number, waiting for the younger to answer.

He wasn’t going to.

She knew it, he knew it, everyone knew it.

Contacting Damian these days was already very difficult itself, at least for something unrelated to the crusade. He always hung up unless it was an Oracle frequency, the comms was the only thing that connected him directly with them, and he used to turn off his phone when he knew they could bother him. Depending of the day, he could also read your texts or not, but that depended on his mood and other factors, such as Jonathan Kent intervening or his level od nostalgia.

But no matter how many times she tried to explain Dick that Damian is already 22, he’s not Robin anymore, lives with his boyfriend in Metropolis and doesn’t want to know anything about him. Because he always calls him, waiting for an answer as if nothing had changed. And she, as usual, allows it despite knowing the result.

Also, if Damian doesn’t want to see Dick on a normal daily basis, what makes him think today is going to be different? He had more reasons than ever to avoid him and everyone now, and surely, he would have turned off his phone and hidden it in the darkness corner of a drawer until next week or month.

It wasn’t just because Damian usually isolated himself completely from everything and everyone during the anniversary of Tim and Jason disappearance, without answer and hiding with his head down like a wounded, sad puppy to lick his wounds in the dark. But because this year he had starred a rather interesting and destructive episode resulting from what was surely an unhealthy coping mechanism and an ineffective emotion management.

It wasn’t the first year something like that happened, as time passed and the anniversary arrived, it was well known that it was coming a brief period of awkward silences, latent guilt, heated arguments, and an impending disaster. By whom? That was a surprise.

Two years ago, was Jonathan Kent with his spectacular drunkenness and tractor launch; Three years ago, it was his brother, Conner, who flew out of nowhere to the space, was missing for a whole month and when he returned the answer was “I went for a walk but I got hungry.”; Another was Stephanie and her call from the local police station for get into a bar fight and broke several bones of some men who seemed very afraid of her while they process the fine; Other, was the imminent and irremediable break up of Bruce and Selina after months of arguments and tension, whose consequent robberies to art galleries were disastrous; This year had been Damian getting fully involved in an explosion; And the previous -and the best, in her opinion- was Dick breaking into her living room drunk and stripping while screaming “Let’s do it for the old times” when her father was visiting.

Yes, something happened always, to a greater or lesser extent. Those involved always stayed away for a while before lifting their heads up and bearing the consequences, some more easily than others, of course. Kon promised to say someone if he was taking walks again, Jon paid the tractor, Stephanie the fine for aggression, Selina returned nothing, and now his father can’t look at Dick again. But the whole process took a while, after all the emotions had overflowed, they had stopped being rational so as not to deal with the pain of loss and they had to get back together. That was Damian needed, to recover and take responsibility for what happened.

The problem is that he didn’t know what had really happened, and what it could mean.

“No answer.” Dick sighed coming back to her side.

“Of course not.” She replied thoughtfully and drinking her coffee. “Give him some time.”

“I know, but Babs, he was hurt.” He complained, concern written on his face. “He should be in the cave, recovering…”

Barbara raised an eyebrow and looked at him behind the mug questioningly, causing Dick to snort nervously. If he really thought Damian was going to stay in the cave for a single second, with him there, after the disaster he formed part and injured, he hadn’t been paying attention to anything for the past six years.

“At least he won’t be alone, he’ll call us later.” He won’t. But Dick had to convince himself to don’t lose his temper. “How are you doing with that?”

He asked that pointing to the screen, and she still looked at him recapping her work from a few hours ago.

The explosion in Zodome center had been big, spread to several streets with subsequent serious fires and numerous wounded, deaths still to be determined. But as much as Superboy had appeared to help and the situation had gotten better, for the city was something common. Gamorra was an island where crime lived and reign, always had, no matter how hard they tried to cleanse or purify the place, crime always found another way to get in, adapt and live in the shadows.

That had been precisely the real cause of the explosion, even if they had deduced that it had been because the terrorist group Damian was chasing had become a little nervous with his presence.

Ironically, it was a trigger, but not the cause. One part of the group had entered the island because of the easy access to the black market, and the others for something more important and substantial in these times: information.

“Good.” She replied, setting the cup aside and typing on the keyboard again. “When the servers went down, I could get a lot of what was leaking on that supercomputer.”

Dick nodded, settling on the counter next to her and watching her working again, classifying with her programs the information they now had.

Gamorra was an ideal place for any villain or organization with questionable intentions to find a cozy place and establish a base. No one asked anything, your neighbors were other criminals who didn’t want to be disturbed too and privacy was highly valued.

Except when some annoying neighbors were more curious than usual and discovered a strategically hidden supercomputer in the city center that may contain _very_ valuable information.

She still hadn’t determined who it belonged to and which was the exact function of such a processor, but based on what she had seen so far, the servers acted as a kind of filter between the common and the dark network that they drove privately. Apparently, they were pretty well established, shady deals, big money transactions, questionable contacts, handling and dominance of hacking programs, organ sales, forged documents, human trafficking, and in general everything that a dark net can bring.

Whoever it was, Barbara knew they were good, had resources and well organized, because not only had they managed to escape from their radar all this time, but the security was extreme and the network they had built was very large, it couldn’t have been done by a single individual. It was a group, one that didn’t mind destroying half a city as long as nobody gain access to them, because the moment the terrorists tried to enter, the extra security was activated, and everything was blown up.

All trace of the supercomputer and what had been around it had been reduced to ashes, causing a fatal and unexpected explosion that struck Damian and five blocks around. And everything could have stayed there, they would have succeeded and getting away with it, people would have died, and they would have continued with their network and control in the criminal world, but they didn’t count with one thing:

She was fucking Oracle.

And when everything exploded, the servers and programs that acted as a filter and security went off for a few seconds, then went back on immediately at the other part of the world, probably where the group had another computer which she was already trying to track down. But those few seconds were enough for her to steal information and certain operative programs, freeing them from theirs claws and using for her benefit.

It hadn’t been _a lot_ , but enough. And since then, Barbara had been classifying each thing carefully, disabling viruses, sending the necessary information to entities that may need it and taking notes of every harmful business or name that went through her eyes.

Thanks to this everyone will be busy for a while, they had found a criminal mine which it’s necessary to eradicate and investigate, as well as the group that had given them the network and sense of freedom. If they did it right, they would know soon who they were, and can erase them, but at least she would have liked to discover all of this in a way that didn’t involve a fatal explosion, she’s sure Damian too.

But Damian doesn’t know this, because blames himself for it, can’t stand failure, misses Jason and Tim, and has not been able to forgive anyone in the family since they deserted.

“Something interesting?” Dick ended up asking as she finished her coffee. “Apart from all the illegal acts we now know.”

Barbara leaned over her chair and looked at him, reflecting.

Dick shouldn’t be here. He didn’t even understand part of what was going on, not because he couldn’t, but because his head wasn’t in the right place right now to do it. That’s precisely why he was there, making coffee, smiling at her and watching her working without question, because it was better to be distracted with her than his own thoughts. It wasn’t annoying, nor irritating, just… Babs knew why he did it, and that caused a slight pinch of anguish through her chest and made her want to work without rest to neither think (talking about unhealthy coping mechanism, right?)

Dick didn’t want to be alone. At least not today. But Bruce wasn’t an option, because they would jump into each other’s throat just by being in the same room, and probably argued about who was more guilty of what; Damian had fled away into Jon’s arms, he preferred to spend time with anyone than Dick, and the affection he had for him had frozen at the moment he did _that_ six years ago; Stephanie wasn’t going to receive him, probably would spit him in the face for the same reason; And Cass not only lived with the previous one, but would look at him that way, so… Cass. Former Titans or other friends weren’t a bad choice, but it was as if Dick was afraid to get out of Gotham, as if he were tied up here.

So, he was there with her, talking and trying to distract both of them from the emotional meltdown that the whole thing entailed.

“Actually…” She started to say. “All of this gave me an idea."

“Hm?”

Dick tilted his head with a smile, looking at her expectantly and with great interest, just as he did when he was Robin and they were both young, so young and stupid. And the words Barbara wanted to say died in her throat, leaving her quiet.

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t hurt him like that.

It was a brief idea, not even well formulated, but one that had been bothering her since she looked at the hacking programs she found within the dark network. Some of them were very smart and well programmed, but there was one in particular, expensive and sophisticated, that had caught her attention. It combined the typical control over cameras and security systems to turn them off or superimpose images, along with facial recognition systems. That reach an interesting effect, because according to what she had understood about it and how operated, if it hacks specific cameras and predetermine a face, a name or a person, the program prevent its detection, saving the images in the private servers of the network, avoiding them come to light and not only the acts of the person who use it were hidden, but also their presence, their existence. As if they had disappeared.

What if…?

With such kind of program, refined and using it correctly in specific points, a person could move around the world perfectly undetected, totally invisible to any media because his image was not registered commonly and it was derived to a closed and secure network. It was dangerous, and at the same time, perfect for wanted criminals, thieves and above all, people who want to disappear.

What if Tim and Jason had been using something similar?

Tim was brilliant and knew Barbara. They had worked together, was familiar with her methods, and he was aware that the moment they disappeared she would track them with all her power. But the tracking and recognition system she had created solely to find them had not find a single match in six years. She had thought it was because they knew how to avoid cameras and keep a low profile too well, but what if it was another thing? What if there was something else blocking her system? Like a sophisticated program like this?

It was a possibility.

And looking at Dick, curious, smiling and expectant, but with a deep sadness, guilt and tiredness shining behind his blue eyes, she realized she couldn’t tell him this. She couldn’t.

Because it was a possibility, it was a _hope_.

She couldn’t do that to Dick, not like that. If she told him about it and then she was wrong, it would break him. Everyone knew that Dick would jump into a burning building if anyone told him that Tim and Jason were inside. And if Barbara gave him something to hold on to and then take it away from him, she wasn’t sure how he will react. So, she just shook her head, grabbed his now empty cup of coffee and gave it to him carefully.

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t mind me.” She turned that down. “Can you get me another cup, please? I’ll finish this and then we can rest.”

“Of course.” He answered, still smiling and pretending not to have realized how she had hesitated, taking the cup and leaving.

She watched at him go, feeling a little bit more miserable than usual and holding back a sigh. Everything had been easier when they were young and stupid, hadn’t it? It was just them, jumping in the roofs, forming a good team and laughing as they flight. Now they have secrets, regrets, permanent injuries, brothers to miss and nobody to ask for forgiveness.

Would any of this have happened if she had put more effort at the time? What would have changed if she had decided to speak when everything happened instead of remaining neutral? Had anything would change?

She shook her head and decided she couldn’t begin to think about that topic beyond the possibility that now had, because it wouldn’t worth to sink in unanswered questions again. She knew the idea wasn’t defined either, that maybe it was more complicated than that, after all Tim was smarter and if he did something like this, he would do it with people he trusted.

But a little hunch mixed with a tiny hope leaded her to search that program, studying it for a few seconds. She couldn’t trace who used it and how, but now she’s the owner and main admin, she could disable it, undo it, digging up the original images. The probability that Jason and Tim were there was low, but if she were wrong at least would leak infinity of incriminating videos and photos that would serve to put other people in jail.

“ _It would be too lucky, right?_ ” She thought with irony.

It was very difficult to be optimistic after so long. And after pressing the button, she saw how her systems started to work, analyzing and storing the images that were already beginning to appear in her screen quickly.

She heard Dick approaching her again, this time with two cups in his hands. Quiet, the ex-batgirl thought about how she could trace other programs like this, or their creator, or anything that could bring her a little closer to what had caused not to be able to find the missing Robins with her methods. And also, allowed herself to think with sadness how easy it would be if Tim were here, in another computer and helping her in the same disinterested way as ever, smiling shyly and insecurely as he told her about how Jason had invited him to his favorite chilli dogs truck the other night, or how Damian had been mad at him because Alfred the cat had learned if his owner put him on a diet, the solution was beg food to Tim.

She remembered how empty and useless she felt when she couldn’t track down or find the other two after Bruce called for help. As if all the work and development she had been through after being paralyzed were nothing, because at the end she couldn’t find her family.

Until one alarm started to ring.

An aloud and shrill alarm that had never sounded before, and she had been waiting - _begging_ \- for six years.

“Don’t screw with me.” She said straightening up in her chair and looking up surprised. “Don’t fucking screw with me.”

“What’s that sound?” Dick asked, standing at her side again.

“Oh shit.” She said, getting away from that computer to go to another one, rushing and starting to typing in a hurry, more surprised than ever. She didn’t think it would be true, nor if she were even right. “Oh shit!”

“Babs?” The other asked again, chasing after her and beginning to worry. It wasn’t like her to act like this unless she had a reason. “What happens?”

“Oh my god.”

“Babs?!”

She didn’t answer, because it was better to turn on the other screens around them so that Dick could see the same as her.

All the screens lighted up, showing images, _many_ images from different places, different countries, a lot of places whose cameras had managed to record those whom they lost. The tall figure of Jason accompanied by the little of Tim, sometimes alone, almost always together, appearing in every corner of the screens without stopping, images where they were laughing, talking, walking, kissing, _living_ , appearing one after another. Some from years ago, others from months, weeks, hours, the most recent from a few _minutes_.

Babs gasped, assimilating what she had just achieved. Dick dropped the cups on the floor, overwhelmed. _“Match detected.”_ Shined on the screens, in large and showy letters, at last.

“ _Oh shit._ ”

They found them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did well? 
> 
> Really, I don't know, this is the first chapter where I struggled to write so much and I don't have confidence in it. Mostly, because as I said above I don't have idea about computing and programs or any related to that, so I'm not sure if I did well enough and all of it was realistic or at least credible, but after thinking too much I came to the conclusion that I'm writting a Batman fanfic where people can fly, so I think all of you can forgive me if I didn't do it well? I try to translate it the best I can because it was more difficult than the others chapters, hope that you guys could understand.
> 
> And yeah, talking about the chapter itself, well, they found them (?) You know, this is not how I planned this to happen, but after started to write the first chapters I realized this is better and with it I can explain other sort of things, even if the original idea were Tim and Jason saving Damian in the first chapter I have to leave that apart. I try to write Babs well too, because she's my childhood crush, not lying, and on the other side I feel like I left appart Dick a little, I will fix that soon, I promise!
> 
> Right now I don't know what more to say, just thank you so much for reading, the comments, kudos and everything, really make me happy and not planning to dissapoint all of you! My tumblr is @heartless-error and stay safe!
> 
> Thank you and see you next week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's POV. Just when he thinks he's used to changes, his world is shaken to its core again, again, and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there ~ How was this week? Hope everyone is okay!
> 
> Here's you weekly chapter, just in time. And I can't believe I have reached to chapter 6, like, I've been writing for six weeks?! I know it sounds weird but it's my first time doing this type of longfic and being so constant with it it's totally new for me, I'm proud of myself and glad that you liked it and read it! Hope you like this chapter too, it's the beggining of the storm so enjoy!

**_Now_ **

Damian’s feet landed in Wayne manor’s front garden about half and hour after that call.

He knew that only because he had deigned to turn on his phone for once and saw the time on the screen as he checked if they had told him anything else, but if it hadn’t been for that he wouldn’t have been aware of the time at all.

Damian had hardly been aware of anything in general. After that call it was like his world have been distorted, his brain turned into something unfocused and blurry. He had many thoughts at the same time but couldn’t focus on any of them before they quickly mixed up with each other or changed into other ideas or conclusions.

Everything was intertwined, twisted and hectic. Happy, sad, guilty, hopeful, or spiteful thoughts crushed him. All at once, flooding his head and nullifying him. He couldn’t decide, he couldn’t act as always because there was a big chaos inside him that he didn’t even know who he was right now (A son? A brother? A partner? A hero? A villain? A _traitor_?) He wanted to put his mind in order, go back to being himself and prioritize, put himself back together, but how to do that when everything could fall apart again?

Gordon didn’t say anything else in that call, it wasn’t necessary anyway, she simply hung up leaving him stunned in the kitchen and trying to catch his breath as the endless possibilities suffocated him. And one part of him, angry and full of an irrational rancor towards she and the family, said him that Barbara done it that way to made sure he would immediately go to the manor, regardless of whether it was significant or not, because is the only way to figure out what they had found.

The thing what Gordon didn’t know is that didn’t matter if it were meaningful or not, because Damian would go anyway as if the future of humanity depended on it. Because he knew, he _knew_ , by her tone, by Dick’s texts begging him to go back, by the pressure in his chest, the concern in his mind and the feeling in his guts, that it was important and had to do with his missing brothers. And didn’t matter what they have found because it’s _something_ and that was more than enough.

Enough for his sanity to explode in thousand pieces, for his body being put on guard immediately and his soul freeze. Hope mixed with impatience was what dominated him now.

He remembers vaguely and shapely blurred return the phone to Conner, quietly and ignoring his worried questions to go to his room and get dressed.

The weight he felt in his being lightened a little when Jonathan entered half-dressed in their room, looked at him closely a few seconds and then started to help him prepare to fly away to Gotham. No questions, no inquiring, just a nervous shine in his eyes and shock in his expression. Damian doesn’t know what kind of expression should have on his face -or if it was another superpower of his boyfriend- but Jon knew instantly something happened, as always. He always knew how to read him like no one else and what he needed at the moment, and Damian loved that as much as it terrified him.

However, during the flight heading to Gotham he had time to be terrified over other things. For example, discover what they had found, whether it was good or bad, and most importantly: _how_.

Many options and variables arose before him as they made the second Metropolis-Gotham trip of the week, and none liked him.

Because, seriously, _how?_

It didn’t make any sense, he thought there were no cracks, no clues to follow. Further, it was well known to all that in missing persons cases, time was essential, the more time passed the trail got colder and less easy is to find anyone. So, how the fuck they could found anything after six fucking years?

What’s going on?

By the time they arrived at the manor, his mind was still the same or more confused than before he left the apartment.

“Damian.” Jon said beside him, drawing his attention in that soft way he always did whenever he wanted to talk about something mildly serious.

He hasn’t let go of his hip since they’d landed, still clung to him sideways as if he were afraid of letting him go, but gently and trying to be careful with his wounds still in process of healing.

Damian looked away from the grass next to the path that led to the manor’s entrance and looked at his partner, who was staring at him thoughtfully. Jon hadn’t even combed his hair before leaving (although flying can mess up the hair a lot), he had forgotten his fake glasses, put different socks, and those were crocks? Damian would like to say that he wasn’t usually such a disaster, but it’s a lie, and they weren’t in this situation every day, to which Jon had reacted quite well even without knowing what’s happening, being honest.

“Gordon called.” He decided to explain quietly and looking sideways at the manor’s entrance door. “They have a clue.”

“I thought so.” He replied, surprising him. “Dick has sent more texts asking me to bring you back, you don’t seem well and Kon wasn’t better when we left.”

Ah yes, Kon.

Damian had ignored everything around him after the call, and it was now when he remembers how Kon was in front of him, demanding answers, listening to how he used his phone, and seeing how he entered in that self-destructive personal trance to run away minutes later, leaving him there and also drawing his own conclusions.

They couldn’t leave him like that. Neither him nor the fact that Dick and everyone seemed to resort Jon’s -or Kon’s- mobile number whenever they couldn’t contact him, and they had to handle both things.

“You have to talk with Conner.” He said to Jon seriously. The other super’s questions also resonated in his head hard, reminding him the consequences of his actions.

“I know, leave it to me.” He sighed as shaking his head. “When I come back, I’ll explain him-”

“No, Jonathan.” He cut him off, still serious. “You have to _speak_ with him.”

As expected, he understood what he wanted to say instantly. His posture straightened, faltered in his grip and the concerned expression he showed before for his older brother hardened. His eyes wavered between Damian and the manor, several times.

“You think they know-?” He was unable to finish the question before looking at the manor with restlessness.

“I don’t know.” Damian replied shaking his head. “They haven’t told me anything else.”

Jon nodded finally understanding the situation, which didn’t make the nervous and impatient atmosphere dismiss between them at all. Questions without answers floating in the air, what did they know? How? _How much?_

“What about Kon?”

“He asked me about it this morning.” Damian said with calculated coldness, like he was giving a report. “He has his suspicions.”

Justified. And he was not the only one.

Then, knowing that, Kon squeezed his grip and in a second they were hugging hard, the super hiding his head on his shoulder and Damian clinging to his back as if it were the only thing that kept him sane, as if they wanted to hide from everyone. Which was true.

“I’ll fix it.” Jon whispered over his shoulder, reluctant to let him go.

They both knew that however much they wanted; Jon wouldn’t be able to accompany him to the unexpected bat-meeting. He wasn’t a bat after all, not matter that he had also been severely affected by what had happened, that Tim and Jason had practically raised him too, or that he was “family” in a way. No, this was a batfamily matter to the core and he was not invited.

Damian knew that and yet he hugged him like a koala while gathered the courage to enter and receive responses. When he had Jon by his side, he felt invincible, stronger, unbeatable, because he was with him and will never let him fall.

He couldn’t feel that with his family, not anymore.

“You have to go. They’re waiting for you.” Jon finished saying resignedly, annoyed to have to let him go.

They parted a little, looking at each other’s eyes and Damian hesitated. He was raised to be a warrior, an assassin. He had been in many dangerous battles and missions throughout his life, some were a complete madness that many wouldn’t believe, sometimes he even ask himself how is still alive. But for some reason, this is bigger and more dangerous for him than something else, Damian feels like he’s on his way to the slaughterhouse.

“Call me later?”

“I will try.” He would like to say yes but depending of the development of events it could be the opposite. “Stay tuned, just in case.”

Jon nodded and sighed heavily, not happy with that decision but with no other choice. They didn’t want to be apart, but the sooner they did, the faster they would know what was going on and how much they should worry, instead of jumping to conclusions and going crazy. So, with one last anxious look, Jon leaned to give him a warm kiss that shook his world and didn’t mind corresponding, almost complaining when they had to separate definitely.

“Be careful, I love you.” Jon said with a tender smile before leaving another light kiss on his cheek.

“Me too.” Damian replied, dry and barely heard.

He turned around and started walking towards the entrance, just in time not to see Jon take off and leave. Even so, he knew very well that Jon was smiling how always did like it was the first time he listened him saying that, even if he had improved to let that go easily over the years.

He tried to keep the warm and fuzzy feeling that it caused him, having learned to express himself without feeling guilty and/or vulnerable, making his lover happy along the way, but everything went easily replaced to anxiety and nerves when he saw himself knocking the manor’s door.

Damian didn’t have to wait a full minute for it open slowly, with wood and hinges roaring heavily, revealing the manor’s interior and the butler in charge behind the door.

“Master Damian.”

Alfred Pennyworth greeted him in a polite tone, as elegant as firm as ever. Old age and the effect of time on the butler were visible but didn’t matter how old he might be at first glance, because his strength and tenacity were still there. Even if Damian considered himself an adult, the authority and domain Alfred had on everyone was always indisputable.

“Good morning Pennyworth.” He greeted in response.

“It is a pleasure to finally have your presence in the Wayne manor.”

That was said in a slight tone of reproach that you can only recognize if you have been scolded by Alfred many times in the past.

And the guilt that Damian already dragged per se just got bigger after that, because he knew that reproach was not only because he had taken too long to knock on the door -because he was sure Alfred knew the exact moment he set a foot in the garden.- No, it was because it’s been a long time since he even walked down the entrance, since the cave (and sometimes his room) was the only place he had deigned to step on since he moved with Jon.

“The others are waiting for you.” The butler reported opening more the door and leaving him space to enter.

“I came here as soon as I could.”

“I don’t doubt it, sir. I assume you have been informed about the recent events?”

“Yes. Something like that.”

He said the last somewhat resentful and irritated for not knowing everything, looking at Alfred analytically as he passed him, trying to see some indication in him. Which was impossible, of course, because Alfred has always been like a blank wall for everyone, specially when he wanted to, and this time would not be less.

So, after entered he started to head towards the clock room and the cave in silence, looking at the ground with intensity and trying not to think about the agonizing jolt of his chest, because he was in enough self-conflict already to add memories from that place to the mix that could turn that lump in his throat into vomit. He also heard how the older man closed the entrance door and accompanied him.

“If you allow me the observation, I assume that Master Kent has contribute to help with those wounds that I treated nights ago.” He said, again, in that slightly sarcastic and accusatory tone. “I’m glad to see both of you are happy and in a good health, sir.”

Damian stopped walking and turned to look at him, unease, and indecision scratching under his skin. Alfred’s façade hasn’t moved, of course, but he knew how to read between lines. And beyond the fact that this man -his grandfather, practically- had always worried about everyone’s health and wellness, it was who treated him nights ago too, when he was involved in the explosion. The concern that must have caused him had to be hard, not to mention that later he ran away without even saying goodbye. He knew Alfred wasn’t angry and was serious when he said he was glad about him and Jon, but that didn’t make the feeling of guilt recede.

Specially since he also remembers very well the way the butler seemed dejected when Jason, Tim, or even Grayson did the same thing in the past. All of them worried their dear grandfather a lot without intending it, when he had always given them all his love, affection and care he possessed.

The lump in his throat seemed to get bigger, and he wanted to apologize (or at least try), to tell him that he was okay, it wasn’t his fault and, really, he’s eating properly, but his voice interrupted his already confused thoughts.

“Have you had breakfast, master Damian?”

“A coffee.” He answered hesitantly.

“That’s not an appropriate breakfast, sir.” Alfred replied raising an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it and assure something adequate for your condition.”

“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” He tried to dissuade him, mostly because he felt he was physically unable to eat anything right now.

“I’ll take it downstairs when I finish.”

And just like that, he headed for the kitchen, leaving Damian more tangled and sunk into himself than before.

On top of that, he intuited that willingness to dedicate to cooking was due to an attempt to distract himself as much as possible and at the same time continue taking care of him as he could, which didn’t help at all to calm him down.

Damian shook his head and breathed deeply, then follow his way to the cave that led him to relapse in a spiral of nerves and anxieties growing stronger as he approached the room. The mist had reappeared, and his mind was saturated again when he got to the clock, opened it, and started to go downstairs, acting out of inertia and muscle memory.

As he went down, his chest seemed to weight more and more, the emotions accumulated at every step he took, vivid memories played in his head, making him shrink in disgust. He didn’t want to do this, not after the chaos that had been these days, and the perspective of it getting worse made him wants to run away, rip of his chest to get out everything that consume him and _shout_.

When he arrived, nobody was there.

The cave seemed empty and was quiet apart from the occasional sound of bats above them and machines running. He knew he wasn’t alone, and the others would probably be elsewhere, but the batcomputer was on and the huge screen illuminated everything around it.

It looked like call him, so Damian headed towards there looking down again. He wouldn’t be happy if saw again the Red Hood and Red Robin suits exposed, however much a voice in his head tell him that he had to, he would do it anyway when he looked up, he had to, he was there for them after all, how hypocrite could he be?

But he resigned himself and reached the batcomputer concentrating in his surroundings. He didn’t feel anyone, didn’t know what they might be doing either, but didn’t care. He was there, in front of the computer, where surely whatever they had found was.

_“If I have time, maybe I can del- ”_ He thought, looking up as approaching the keyboard.

And froze.

Nothing. He couldn’t do _nothing_.

His mind, which had been about to explode half of the morning, screaming thousands of different things and uncontrollably, fell silent. Totally silent, blank. His entire being was paralyzed when his world had been shaking to the ground before. He could no longer listened to bats or machines, nothing. Nothing.

In the screen were three images taken from security cameras, a location and a clear message about the matches found in the database.

Three photos of Tim and Jason, more adults and _different_ , but them. The first was one of them walking together down the street, holding hands; The other two were individuals, with Tim walking into an electronic store and Jason into a local library. All of them with the current date and taken hours ago. The location was a little coastal town in Florida.

Damian wanted to die.

“Those are real.”

Someone spoke behind him, and Damian wasn’t sure how long he had been looking at the screen, or if he had been off guard from the start but had not noticed anyone approaching. To be fair, he had other things to pay attention to.

“We found them, Dami.”

He had no strength, no will, not even energy to turn around and tell Grayson not to call him that, that he had lost that right, to not to approach him, not to say all that in that hopeful and happy tone, because who the fuck does he think he is? Who did he think was the real culprit of all this?

He couldn’t breathe. He was _choking._

“We will go and look for them.” Grayson was closer now. “We will talk to them, fix this and everything will be as before.”

After that, Damian turned around, starting to tremble inside, his hands tingling and his cheeks wet. His stunned gaze met with Dick’s, who was halfway to find him and now looked at him alarmed and surprised.

“Dami, it’s okay.” Said the first Robin, touched. “Don’t cry.”

Dick thought he was crying with happiness.

He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?
> 
> I know maybe some of you were expecting something else and just want to go straight to the main point, but be patient please, there's so many ideas and things to tell and I've always think the good thing about longfics is the development itself (? And as I said in the other notes, this is the beggining of the storm, I can't wait to write more and share it with you!
> 
> About the chapter, well, I don't know if I talk about it in others notes, but Damian is a difficult character to write for me, I'm never sure if I did well enough but I tried to portray his thoughs in this specific situation as well as I can. For me, Damian was a child raised in a difficult and violent enviroment before going to living with his father, in a totally different place, culture and values. Change everything about himself couldn't be easy and while Damian's life is full of changes, my fic didn't help him at all (?)  
> In the other part, I love Alfred so much, I would never forgive K*ng for what he do and the fact that every member of the batclan love him and feared him at the same time it's gold for me. About Jon, my other precious child, he deserves a medal for enduring this family drama.
> 
> I don't know what more to say, I just hope you like it, next chapter is a flashback and very relevant. This time it was more difficult to translate it too, but I think it's because these days it's started to get hot and my dorm still didn't turn on the cold air conditioner, so it's midnight and I'm dying and unable to move because the weather here is so different for my country, pray for me (?)
> 
> But yes, that's enough. Thanks for reading and see you next week ~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's POV. That night, for a single moment, he thought that was good and everything would change. It did, but not in the way he wanted, because it wasn't that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ~ How are you? Hope everything is okay!
> 
> Here's the weekly chapter, a little late but finally done. I have been struggling a lot with it for many reasons, but the principal one is because this is an important chapter and I have been busy too, right now it's 2 am. and I'm trying not to sleep while I update (?) Either way, be ready for more dialogue than before and a lot of exclamations points. I will try to say more in the notes at the end ~
> 
> Now, this is the longest chapter I wrote, so enjoy!

**_Six years ago_ **

When Nighwing and Robin returned to the cave after patrol, Red Hood’s bike was already there.

In the usual darkness and humidity atmosphere of the cave, Damian looked at the vehicle bored like always, already used to Red Hood visits without warning and even expecting an annoying welcome from him. It didn’t come, but he knew that the slight tension in Nightwing’s shoulders was not only because of the stroke of luck that any thug had managed to give him tonight, but because unlike him, he was still slightly on guard when Todd appeared around them.

However, they couldn’t see him anywhere. And while that might be alarming to Dick, Damian found it a relief not to have to suffer in his flesh how irritating the second Robin could be.

“Shall we go to medbay, little D?” Asked Dick Grayson in that gentile tone that he hated so much in these situations.

“It’s not necessary.”

It really wasn’t. The discomfort he felt in his left ankle after landing badly during the fight was banal and didn’t need to be attended at all. A couple of days off would be enough, even less. He wasn’t that weak.

“It will only be a moment, come on.” The older insisted. “Then we can rest, I’m sure Alfred has done something to us.”

“Tt.”

“At least we have to bandage that ankle.”

“My ankle is fine.”

The patrol had been fairly quiet, except for the little fight with Riddle and some of his thugs at the end of it, where Nightwing had been bruised a little and Robin had fallen awry at some point. In the end they had won, unsurprisingly, and Batman told them to return to the base while he was finishing the work alongside the GCPD.

He knew it wasn’t just because they were done for tonight, but to make sure their wounds weren’t serious. And they weren’t, a couple of punches in the face and a sprained ankle are like a starter for either of them, seriously, Damian had gotten worse injuries by playing hide and seek with Todd and Brown. But no matter how much he repeated this to his father and Grayson, he knew the last would drag him to the medbay as soon as they arrived, even if it was to apply an ointment as if he were still a child who didn’t know how to take care of himself.

He was 16 and had only stumbled on the edge of a building. Calm down.

“Grayson, I repeat that it’s not necessary.” He said again annoyed, even though the other one had already started to push him towards the medbay. “I am in perfect condition.”

“You are limping.” He replied in a serious reproach. “If I won’t check you up Alfred will do it, what do you prefer?”

Damian rolled his eyes, he shouldn’t abuse his weakness for Pennyworth in that way, nor to point out his innocent and banal limp, which was jus annoying. Grayson was not always going to get away with everything, although this time he was going to do it, seeing how he was dragged to that part of the cave without being able to resist. Sometimes it’s better to know when to surrender.

He noticed how the older had not only examined him, but also his surroundings, with that slight tension increasing as they moved. Surely, he was trying to determine Todd’s location to keep an eye on him in that way Dick denied he did.

_“He’s with Drake, like always.”_ Damian though with boredom.

It was very hard not to question Grayson’s detective skills when he didn’t seem to know -or rather want to accept- that the only reason Todd put a foot into the cave or any territory of the bats, was Drake. That, and maybe when he didn’t have a choice.

Although the silence was unexpected, since Red Hood made sure to be noticed in the place with the aim of ruin everyone night with his shrill false laughs, his harsh words full of sarcasm, his complaints, insults, and meaningless nicknames. It didn’t take much thought to conclude that he would be with Red Robin somewhere. When Drake deigned to also appear there after patrol -generally when he didn’t have many options either- it wasn’t unusual for him to accompany or take him there, which explained the bike. The “red team” was a very annoying pack that sometimes shown to reaffirm that, indeed, the black sheep of the family had come together to… Well, do whatever they do when they are together.

The last could variate from sharing cases and information between them, to having a heated debate about which Star Wars movie is the best. It depends of the day, but Damian generally preferred to be cautious in knowing where they were and what they were doing since that time he got into that debate and they joined forces to try to hang him upside down in one of the manor’s chandeliers.

“What movie do you want to see later?” Dick asked, giving him a friendly pat on his back.

“None.” He replied impassively. Although remembering about the chandelier episode made him wants to see Return of the Jedi.

“Come on, Dami!” The other complained. “I have to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow, can’t we have brothers time?”

“No.”

“Ouch.”

“I can’t.” He just explained it so that he would never have to hear that complaint, not worthy of an adult man. “I’m meeting someone.”

He knew exactly what Dick was thinking from the way he raised his eyebrows and looked at him more intently. Needless to say, he didn’t like it, least of all when his eyes began to shine with amusement, as if he was about to insinuate something. The worst part of having older siblings was precisely this.

“Oh?” He cooed. “With whom?”

“Jonathan.” He hastened to say so that he wouldn’t have to bear one more of his questions. “I said him I’d call after patrol.”

His time to see Jonathan had been reduced since he entered Gotham High, but they had been calling and they could last hours.

On the other hand, he knew what his older brother had assumed. Since he turned 14 approx. it looked like he and his father had been watching him closely to determine when to gave him _that_ talk. They were like hawks waiting for prey outside the burrow, every time they thought they could give way to that moment, their eyes sparkled and the discomfort along with nervousness flooded them. The first few times it was fun, but when your father seems about to collapse because you invited a classmate home, stops. It was annoying and totally unnecessary and, to be honest, he prefer to sleep three weeks on Todd’s moldy sofa rather than having to go through the talk with any of them.

“Oh, I see.”

Dick’s curiosity dissipated in a second as he shrugged, totally agree that he had put his best friend up for that night and relaxing because it wasn’t a girl, or whatever he thought.

In one way or another, both his father and Grayson always ceased those alarmed looks and attempts to give him the talk when he mentioned his plans with Jonathan. They didn’t seem to find suspicious the fact that the super was the only person he allowed such proximity, or hold hands, or he called him almost every night, or even he escaped some of them to sleep at his home. No, for them it wasn’t an indicator that they were missing something important, they just let their guard down, let it pass and believed there was nothing else.

Very naive on his part.

“You can invite others to your movie night.” He hinted with a huff, quite irritated, already approaching to the medbay.

Both knew who he meant by “others”. Damian was aware that as vigilant as he was at first, Grayson missed his other siblings, despite the fact their relationship hadn’t been the same for years.

You could tell from the way he looked sad when he had to be on guard around Todd, when Drake refused to trust him with anything personal or even the nostalgic, sorry smile that crossed his face when he suggested that as opened the medbay door.

“I don’t think they could, they sure are bus-”

He didn’t finish the sentence, because when they entered at the room the scene inside stunned them and paralyzed everything in an extremely uncomfortable and heavy silence, almost suffocating them.

Tim and Jason parted from the deep, slow kiss they were sharing almost immediately, their sharps eyes shining and staring at them in a mixture of surprise and dread. They hadn’t been quick enough to disguise his actions, nor would they have been out of the question when Todd was still between the other’s legs and squeezing his hips tightly while Drake sat on the bed holding onto his shoulders.

They were silent, he didn’t remember have never lived such an awkward moment in the cave. They were all looking at each other intently and with an oppressive tension flooding the room, threatening to crush them apart. Each one analyzing the others and on guard as ever, waiting for anyone to attack at the slightest movement.

Damian couldn’t locate the expressions in conflict of the others, they were a mixture of mistrust, suspicion and courage, the latter being the one wining as they recovered from the initial surprise of being discovered and began to raise their defenses little by little. Tim showed coldness and control, while Jason bristled completely. On the other hand, Dick had remained still as a statue beside him, barely breathing, he couldn’t glimpse his expression.

He was still too, not knowing how to proceed, but somehow while a part of him was irritated and disappointed (because he knew Drake and Todd were smarter than that and knew how to hide better, what are they doing here?), another felt… calm? He couldn’t determine what emotions should he face right now, but there was a concern in his mind that had been there before entering the room. This had grown stronger and twisted in an unpleasant way when Grayson didn’t seem to react the way Damian knew he _should_ by telling him he was meeting with Jonathan, but now…

He looked at Jason, then at Tim, at Jason, at Tim, at Jason, at Tim again. He noticed how they held each other, how easy they pressed their bodies together and how naturally they seemed to hug; He remembered that calm kiss he had just witnessed, how they seemed to treasure it; Remembered Tim wearing shirts and sweatshirts twice his size, Jason leaving patrol early because he had “a babybird to take care”, the two eating chillidogs on the rooftops, healing each other’s wounds, the smiles, the looks. Both in general.

Damian felt something finally fit inside him.

Beyond understanding better, the relationship of those two, it was as if he had also understood and accepted something of himself. Something that had always been there, but had kept locked up, misunderstood, barely visualized, that when seeing them together had deciphered at the end.

It had always been as if he was envious of them, but not at the same time, and without knowing _why_. But now, seeing them, he felt like he wanted that, no, he _knew_ he wanted that, but not exactly, and somehow made him happy to admit it to himself for once. He was relieved, as if everything made sense now. Tim and Jason, he and Jon. No more confusion, no more doubts.

Seeing them together, so closely, confirming his suspicions, was like proof of what he could have. That he really could have it, it could happen, and it was fine, he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t the only one. As much as Grayson and his father only became alert when they saw him with a girl, or as much as his mother and grandfather wanted a blood heir with a worthy woman, his brothers could understand what he felt and not judge him, not that he thought the others could do it, but the slight pressure and bitterness that left their expectations was not easy to carry.

But now that he thought about it, both of them never had, they never did that. Tim sided with them when their parents scolded him and Superboy for sneaking into each other’s rooms without permission, making them even accept that it was good for their hero partnership, winking secretly at them at the end; Jason sometimes invite them to food whenever they were on patrol and then leave them alone; and they both did react as they should when they heard something from both of them, but they seemed as reluctant as Damian to give or receive the talk.

A slight smile began to form on his lips, realizing how much this helped him. This could change everything.

It did, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t that easy.

“W-What’s going on here?”

Nightwing’s puzzled voice broke the silence, further aggravating the atmosphere and making the relief Damian had begun to feel wobble, his little smile fading immediately.

Drake tensed in his seat, Jason frowned further, but they parted to face them properly. Although that didn’t seem to appease Grayson, judging by the rigidity of his posture, as if he were about to attack.

“We had a complication on patrol.” Drake reported with the same professionalism as ever, completely ignoring the real question. “I was hurt, and we came to treat it, we’re already done.”

That explained their presence in the medbay, why he was sitting on the bed, and the gauze and medical material scattered around them, recently used. But at the same time didn’t give any sense about why they were there when they had closer safe houses, why the cave system hasn’t given any notice of their presence and why they were trying to sneak around. Drake was already dressed, his suit hiding any injuries he had come to treat in secret, surely the silence and kisses were useful and more adequate to treat someone while Alfred wasn’t around.

“No.” Grayson denied, clearly that wasn’t what he wanted to know. “T-The other thing… Were you kissing?”

That question asked in a suspicious tone was a direct statement that they had been seen, and he didn’t mean to let it go and pretend he hadn’t see nothing as much as they wanted to, which they didn’t seem to like. Neither Damian because it made look like they were doing something wrong. And they didn’t, right?

“Yeah. So what?” Jason answered directly. It was probably the best; they couldn’t lie when they had two witnesses after all.

“What do you mean “so what”?” Dick replied, his initial surprise turning to a slight reproach. “What the hell-?”

“It’s none of your fucking business.” Todd declared fiercely, wanting to cut everything. “Drop it.”

Of course, he was talking to Dick Grayson, a bat. He was an expert in stick his nose in everything and was stubborn to insufferable levels, he wasn’t going to drop this.

“It is! S-Since when does this happen?”

The last one already had an angry tone, close to a growl, a scolding. It made that feeling of calm that Damian treasured fade away to become a rough and insecure one, growing more and more as Grayson’s anger.

He didn’t even know what to say, at any other time he would have said something. But right now, with emotions flooding him, he knew if he opened his mouth he would agree with Todd and Drake, because is not their business. But if he said it, he was sure he would be sent to his room like a 10-year-old boy who forgot to brush his teeth after dinner.

“Drop it, Dick.” Said Drake, shifting on the bed and ready to leave. “We’re leaving.”

“Tim, please answer my question!”

“You don’t want to know.” He said coldly.

“Why I-”

“Ya don’t give a shit, Dickface.” Hood interrupted him. “But you’re going to start a drama either way.”

“And how do you want me to react?” Grayson replied, pointing at them, exasperated, as if he saw something the others didn’t.

He could partly understand his reaction, it was an unusual revelation and how he had thought before entering the room, Dick’s relationship with them was broken to some levels almost irreparable. He barely saw them, knew something about his actual lives, meet them beyond patrols and missions, could rarely glimpse them from afar and had no chance to interact with them, so the initial shock might have been expected.

“Just leave us alone, dammit!” Said Jason, his angry increased.

“I can’t! You’re siblings!”

That statement shook even him, and it seemed like a slap on the face for the other two.

In theory Grayson was right, but at the same time he was lacking. Legally, on paper, Drake and Todd were brothers, both adopted by Bruce Wayne, that’s right. But to tell the truth, the legal way was not so important in this case, since according to some papers Todd was dead and Drake has a lost uncle who took care of him before. They hadn’t grown up together, nor lived together, they had never even met duly before Todd’s resurrection, they had never seen each other as family, it was a fact.

“It’s not-“ Tim began to explain, before being interrupted again.

“And he tried to kill you”

That accusation, sad and heavy as it would have been said, was like another slap, which again, even reached him. Because if they really started to argue who had tried to kill whom years ago, the argument would last all night, But no doubt it was Jason who was most affected by that, if the way his eyes burned with rage and his expression twisted was an indication. To tell the truth, it’s a miracle he didn’t attack Grayson for real.

“Fuck you!” He attacked resentfully. “It was years ago, asshole!”

“So what?” Dick returned his previous words, also letting his emotions dominate him. “Jason, you are still a murderer!”

It was obvious from the way he said it and spat out the words he hadn’t thought much about the consequences of saying them, maybe he didn’t really think that. He was simply angry, nervous, confused by what he had discovered, and all of that clouded his judgement. But knowing that didn’t stop Damian’s throat from closing, and Tim dropped his façade to scold the oldest in an alarmed whisper.

By now it was common knowledge that even if Red Hood sometimes left the rubber bullets to use the reals, the blood shed was from people who couldn’t even be considered one for the atrocities they had committed. But that remained in a gray and diffuse line of morality that some bats still didn’t approve.

“What the fuck are you saying?!”

“I’m saying we can’t trust you!” Dick attacked again. People assumed Grayson was Wayne family’s ray of sunshine, but it was because they had never seen him angry. “You don’t seem to want to change, not to mention the pit influence. You’re dangerous!”

“I’m already over it!” Hearing Jason saying this with fury, but without fight physically with someone at this point, it could be a real clue about how much Jason could restrain himself.

“That was before or after trying to kill Tim for the sixth time?”

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?!”

“Because _this_ it’s not okay!” He said pointing at the other two. “It can’t be healthy!”

He was wrong. Damian knew it, but he couldn’t say it, why he couldn’t say it? The unpleasant feeling had grown bigger and bigger, now was crushing him, stopping him from speaking. He was just watching the other two arguing as if this was a tennis match.

“Are you going to lecture us about it? _You?_ ” Jason said wryly, laughing out loud. “Sorry. I can’t speak I-fuck-up-all-my-relationships-because-I’m-a-selfish-shit.”

“Listen to me…” Grayson sighed, lowering his tone to a calmer one, just like when he speaks to any victim or an altered civilian. “I love both of you, I’m saying this for your sake.”

“Bullshit.”

“I am your brother and I know either of you are… Stable, much less to have any type of relationship with the other.”

Damian almost protested, but his reply died in his throat. Because this was another thing Grayson might be right about if he didn’t lack information or common reasoning.

The fact that Todd was a crazy with very violent tendencies was not a secret, but it was true he had improved a lot in controlling himself and the pit rage over time; And regarding Tim, his severe depression and anxiety were also not a secret, you only have to have eyes, but like Jason, he seemed to deal with it better, especially with the right support and setting. The image of them Grayson was relying on to judge the whole thing was not only old but distorted on his part.

“You have no fucking idea, so do us all a favor and stop talking.” Jason sentenced, more defensive than ever.

“I know-“ Dick tried to keep explaining.

“You don’t know anything, Dick.” Said Tim, again in that icy and sharper tone. “ _Nothing._ ”

Somehow, Tim’s harsh coldness seemed to affect him much more, causing him to shake his head and look at them stunned, as if he couldn’t understand why they didn’t listen to him or understand what he wanted to say when he supposedly wanted to protect them.

Damian had no doubt that was Grayson’s goal, after all, to protect them, from themselves and each other. But didn’t he realize it wasn’t necessary? Robin had been around those nights when Red Hood didn’t use real bullets or refused to be lethal, when Red Robin was persuaded to go to sleep or rest, and during some breakfast without capes after. He could say that part of Garyson’s reasoning was based in past events that had lost value today.

They should have, right? Because if not, what about him?

Swallowing the lump in his throat and wanting to ignore that unpleasant and accusatory feelings that flooded him, he tried to speak at last, when another voice, much lower than his and already known, knocked them all down.

“What’s going on here?”

All of the Robins straightened up instantly, glancing at the door where Batman himself were standing impassively and firmly. No one had noticed his presence, nor how long he had been there. A defeated sigh and murmured curses were heard, the heated and aggressive atmosphere that surrounded them turned again in an uncomfortable and distressing silence. Damian felt he might start to sweat.

Nobody moved, each of them carefully evaluating his options. Drake, despite his position on the bed, looked at the exits they would have available if they were too fast; Todd raised his head and looked at them defiantly, still close to Tim in an obstinate posture.

He didn’t blame them, if Grayson had reacted like that, being as stubborn as he was, his father was not going to be better.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“What’s going on?” Again, Batman asked with authority, making everyone shudder.

They were too used to responding to that voice immediately. And he supposed it wasn’t pleasant to come back and find half of your kids yelling at each other, but Drake and Todd didn’t move, and Damian didn’t want to either, but he felt he should. He had been in conflict since he opened that door and saw his supposed older brother’s reaction to something he considered good.

“Father- ”

“Red Hood and Red Robin are compromised.” In the end, it was Nightwing who spoke, cutting off his chance to stop this.

The first in fall apart, as always.

The silence followed that was tense and suffocating again. The seconds Batman took to answer seemed like hours, and during that time Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Dick had referred to Tim and Jason as Red Hood and Red Robin because if he put the vigilante’s identities before his brother’s it was easy for him to behave like an asshole who doesn’t listen.

“I see.”

He doesn’t. Surely, he was as surprised as them, but trying not to show it. Supposedly he was the best detective in the world, but he had not been able to realize what was happening between his pupils until now.

“For how long?”

Silence.

The last question was directed at the involved, but none of them seemed to want to give any details.

Even Damian’s stomach was churning at this, and he didn’t blame Todd for frowning any further, because this interrogation made no sense, even to him, and even though it wasn’t the first time he doubted his father and brother’s actions, it was the first one in which he strongly disagreed.

“I’m done.” Jason ended up saying before the second question were made. “We’re leaving.”

Nodding, Tim leaned against the side of the bed and stood up, ready to follow him toward the exit, which was cut off by the other vigilantes. However, the following words stopped then in their steps.

“No. Red Robin stays.” The dark knight declared. “Red Hood is leaving.”

Both looked at him astonished. Nightwing lowered his head.

“What?” Tim asked, surely his head setting up a plan already.

“You are hurt and compromised.” He told them directly, they weren’t even going to wonder how he had found out everything. “We will examine you and discuss the details of this matter tomorrow.”

He said the last looking at Tim and the medical supplies were used earlier, but the way they reacted, as if they were going to knock them off at any moment, didn’t say anything good. Tim stepped back and Jason and covered him with his height, trying to attract the attention to him.

“Don’t even dream about it, Bats.” The taller one growled. “We are leaving.”

“Guys…” Dick pleaded.

“You can’t retain me.” Tim said firmly. He was right, there was no way to contain him in a place against his will, because he would end up destroying the place and turned it into ashes just to get out.

“You shouldn’t worry unless you have something to hide.”

The implication of those words made Damian almost yell at him with fury, angry at his father _for real_ for the first time in his life.

“What are you implying?” Tim asked, more puzzled at each moment. The initial defenses he had built in front of them at the beginning seemed to break down more and more, and it wasn’t a worth thing to see.

“Hood has shown violent tendencies towards you for years, which he continues to direct towards others. Your mental health is unstable as well as a suspicious effort to hide your wounds for a long time.” Batman said impassively, agreeing with Nightwing. “We know how to recognize the symptoms of a potential abusive relationship, and since you don’t want to cooperate, we can’t let you go before we obtain more details.”

Damian wanted to throw up.

“How can you think something like that?” Said Tim seriously, his icy anger seeping into every word.

The question rather was “How can you think something like that of us?” Because if someone here was aware of what an abusive relationship was and its consequences, was Jason, whom his violent father beat him after having knocked his mother up. Red Hood was feared among abusers for a reason, or he was the only one who knew that? Also, Tim had always had an unhealthy tendency to hide his wounds, even before he became Robin. The fact his father was relating everything to reach that conclusion and pretending he was objective, was even offensive.

“I haven’t assumed anything.” He tried to reason, though there was no way to believe him. “But this information is sudden and suspicious, we need to have evidence and facts beyond your words to determine what to do.”

With evidence, he was referring to Tim, and what he thought he was hiding under his suit. Which he didn’t seem very willing to share judging the way he walked a few steps away, determined.

“You already have.” Jason replied. “And it doesn’t matter what we tell you, you’re going to assume and do whatever you want. As always, it’s your fucking style.”

“Your background is not the best.” His father answered. It was amazing how he was treating the whole thing like a daily mission, rather than a revealed relationship. “You are not objective and your reaction to this only gives us more reasons to reaffirm it has to end.”

Unfortunately, he was right about one thing. The firmly way of refusing to show Tim’s wounds or being examined, however exaggerated, was a proof that there was something they didn’t want them to see.

However, because the way Todd faced them, it seemed to want to protect him from it, it indicated more that it was something caused by someone else. What’s more, the simple idea Todd could hurt Drake again, after knowing the truth of their current relationship, shook him inside.

“Your reasons are bullshit.”

“Little wing, you’re not helping…” Said Dick, thinking he would calm him.

“Don’t call me that!” Jason shouted enraged. At this point, it was such a win he didn’t resort to violence. And how did his father and Grayson not noticed how much Todd improved when he could perfectly shoot them for this years ago?

“We do it for the good of both of you.” Bruce said again, really convinced.

“You want to force us to break up!”

“Please, Tim, just let us check up tonight’s wound at least.” Dick said then, focusing in the other, taking a step closer to them.

“Get away!” Jason shouted defensively, making him stand still.

“We are worried!” The first Robin said.

“You are being irresponsible and a danger to yourself and others in the field.” Batman declared again in that authoritative voice they were supposed to obey.

“You two can stick your concern and the field in your asses.” Todd spat scornfully. “Do you even listen to yourself when you speak?”

“I’m yours-”

Neither was sure what Bruce was going to say exactly, but whatever it was they wouldn’t have been pleased under these circumstances.

Despite this, Damian didn’t even have time to think about it, or that or anything in general, because while they were still arguing, he instinctively focused on Drake, who had quietly retreated to lean on the edge of the bed and remained in an unusual silence with his head down, without apparent intention to intervene.

“You’re nothing!” Jason cut Bruce up again. “Just a fucking hypocrite, you say we are a danger out there, but when it comes to you and Catwoman isn’t?”

“Jason!” Dick exclaimed.

Tim was vert quiet. Too much, right from the start, especially when his sharp sarcasm was what he used to stand out the most when he was deep in an argument. But now, even with Selina Kyle being mentioned, she hadn’t even flinched.

Damian swallowed, tried to ignore the screams around him, and looked at Tim carefully, still lying down on the mattress’s side and having raised a hand to rest on his forehead. Something was off.

“What, hypocrite number 2? Do you want me to remind all the dangers you had in the field?” Jason continued, his anger more than palpable and lashing out at everything he had. Even if he couldn’t attack physically, he’s still fearsome. “You are just making excuses, but I repeat you’re _nothing_ for us now, you cannot tell us what to do.”

“Enough.” Bruce said sternly. “Leave. It’s impossible to reason with you in this state.”

Damian looked at Tim more closely. The way he cringed on the mattress and struggled to hide his presence in the background, as if he wanted to be unnoticed; His hand on his face didn’t move, but his breathing was heavy, his posture didn’t indicate that he was suffering any pain or discomfort; His head was down, he couldn’t catch his expression, couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something…

“Stop it.” Damian whispered in realization.

“I’m not going to move! You never gave a shit about us, and suddenly this?”

“Jason, that’s not true.” Dick complained, exasperated.

The discussion continued; his words weren’t heard.

“You’ve been years without knowing anything from us!”

“It’s not like that!”

“Stop it.” Damian repeated, this time a little louder.

“No? You only want to play the perfect family when you need us in the fucking crusade.”

“What? No!”

“Of course not! After all, you’re the golden child, who has not been discarded as trash.” He said to Grayson feigning a compassionate tone. “But it’s all a lie, like him, all you know is how to discard the unworthy toys after they fail.”

That broke Damian inside, and made Tim gasp.

“STOP IT!”

That scream was what finally ended it all.

Damian didn’t know he was going to scream so loudly, but all he was certain was that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment, and he didn’t like seeing Drake cry. Because he had never seen him shed a single tear, never, ever. Despise everything he had done to him, everything he had said, everything he knew he had lived through. Not once, until now. The implication that all of this could get him reach that point made him want to scream at his brother and father non-stop, a sense of need of protection had arisen him without realizing it.

The argument was instantly finished, leaving behind shaky breaths, the natural sound of the cave behind them, and Tim’s almost silent sobs, which he struggled to hide as if his life depended on it.

He could feel the confusion and guilt of everyone in waves, as well as the indecision of not knowing what to do or how to continue this. Neither seemed to want to change their minds, some wanted to leave and be together, and others wanted them to stay and break up. Grayson seemed to be restraining himself so as not run where the third Robin was and comfort him, also moderating himself because Todd hadn’t moved yet from his place, covering the smallest vigilante even if everything in him indicated how much he wanted to turn around and calm him.

Damian shook his head, almost defeated. Too many emotions flooding him in the moment, none of them good. Some things said in the argument resonated strongly in his mind, causing the confidence he had built at the beginning of the night to collapse like a sandcastle. He couldn’t even let go of the fact he had frozen from the start, like he was a beginner on his first mission, unable to react. He wanted to refute so many things, all of them, to tell them half of what they thought was not true, what they wanted to do wasn’t the right thing even if they think otherwise.

“Robin, to your room.”

That order cut the silence like a sharp knife.

“No.” He instantly refused.

He couldn’t go, not like that. They couldn’t leave him out of this like he was still a child.

“Robin.” Batman repeated more seriously than ever, as if giving him an ultimatum.

He didn’t move.

At least he didn’t plan to do it. He wanted to say many things, everything he hadn’t been able to during the argument. What they knew, what they didn’t, where they were wrong, what they had made wrong, good and the bad decisions.

But then, he raised his look and his eyes met with Tim’s across the room, watery and red, but shining in determination. His hand on the mattress that he could see form his position moved, giving him Titan’s own directions to communicate with him in secret.

_“It’s okay. Go. I’m sorry.”_

He looked at Jason, who still impassive, narrowed his eyes at him.

For some reason, they didn’t want him to get involved.

Damian took a step, then another, another and yet another, his ankle throbbing in pain, but ignored it. Before he knew it, he was running into the manor, straight to his room, wearing Robin’s uniform despite Alfred’s strict policy and ignoring the pain in his joint, because there were things that hurt him more right now.

Even the loud slamming of the door didn’t help to clear his mind, as he was still assimilating the facts and claims he had heard down there. He leaned his back against the door and tried to breathe deeply, but he couldn’t, he was drowning, he was sinking, everything hurt, he didn’t feel his ankle. Damian ended up sitting on the floor with the weight of the words increasing more and more on him.

_“He tried to kill you.” “You’re a murderer.” “We cannot trust you.” “Dangerous.” “Not okay.” “Can’t be healthy.”_

Beyond the sound of his heavy breathing, the pounding of his heart and Grayson’s voice running through him and hammering his head, he heard the predetermined melody of his phone, ringing near him.

_“Abusive relationship.” “It has to end.” “Irresponsible.” “A danger in the field.”_

His phone continued to ring. He knew who it was, he had promised to call him after all. Just like the other nights.

_“Play the perfect family.” “Just like him.” “Throw away the unworthy toys.”_

He ignored that call and the following ones. Just shrugged on himself and didn’t move until next morning.

By then his brothers were already gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it.
> 
> Do you know that sensation you have when you do something specific and try to do just like you were imaginating it but it ended in something rather different, but at the same time you can't change it because that's all you have? Well, this is how I feel with this chapter. A lot of conflicting feelings, yeah. First I really struggled to write it the best as I can, and then translate it was a hell (?) Maybe it sounds stupid but insults and bad words are definitely easy in your mother tonge and I have the sensation this chapter just have more sense and glint in spanish just because of Jason's dialogues.
> 
> Now, related to all the chapter, wow, I think I have a lot of things to say but I will try to summarize (?) In general, well, you can see this chapter is important because it's the night when everything "started", in Damian's POV is like this, but it's true there's some things out of place and discordant: don't worry about it, it will be explained later. Why Tim and Jason were there and their reactions, although all of you know why they wanted to leave before Bruce examinate Tim *cofcof*thespleen*cofcof*.  
> Mm but now, talking about Damian here, his reaction when he discovered Tim and Jason true relationship was exciting to write. You have to think, even if you grew up in a family that would accept you either way, there's always a feeling of solitude or misplace inside you because of the society we're living or, in Damian's case, the expetations over him. Maybe it because it was my experience, my parents were open and lovely, but they always assumed my sexuality without realizing it, and even if I knew it, it was later when I really see what I can have and do with my life when I became conscious of that part of me and accept me, I thought it would be suitable for Damian too since he's young, inexperienced, with a complicated life and in love with his best-friend (?  
> And now, talking about Bruce and Dick, well, I tried to portrait their reasons and thoughts well enough to make clear that they really thought they were doing the best for them, even if that way were not the best. They really had a lack of information that didn't want to recognize were really worried. What I want to say is there's not a right side in all of this, maybe a misscomunication and very emotionally constipated bats that didn't know how to handle certain situations. But don't worry, their POV will come and you'll see ~
> 
> But yeah, that was basically all, I think. This week was a nightmare for me and as I was trying to figure out how to improve the chapter I was full of homework and the mother nature against me, literally. I'm living in Tokyo rn and this week we have several earthquakes,thunderstorms and we're still in quarantine. But well, I survived and ready to next week chapter! I can say it will be in Dick's POV and so interesting ~
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos, comments and everything you do to show me your support, I'm so happy you like my story, see you next week ~


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's POV. He's not stupid, he know what he's about to do is wrong. But finally they have a second chance, and he will do anything to take it. Anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ~ How you doing? Hope everything's okay!
> 
> Before this week's chapter just to say thank you so much for reading, the comments and kudos, I really appreciate it and make me happy to know I'm doing well and people like it! As I said in the previous chapter, be ready for dialogue and exclamation points (?) If you liked last week chapter I think this is going it well too, it's an important chapter with one of the scenes I want to write since the beginning, so go ahead ~
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Now_ **

Dick felt at the edge of an abyss.

He wanted to think it wasn’t a bad thing, because that’s how he had been most of his life, on the edge, literally.

He had grown up between spotlights, applauses, circus tents, stunts at great heights, and a foot on the edge to perform something only few could do. Over time, the stage and stairs were replaced by tall buildings, grapple guns, and a dark city to save. His on-stage outfit turned into a uniform to help those in need, and when he had previously expected to jump off a trampoline, now it could be a building, a cliff, or anything that would allow him to jump and _fly_.

The feeling he always had felt when he was about to jump, that bubbling emotion in his chest that stirred his muscles and altered his entire being, he knew it as well as breathing, enjoyed it, loved it.

However, all those times there was something along the side of the act of jumping that made him feel more secure, loved, capable. Because the Flying Graysons never flew alone, neither Batman and Robin, not even Nightwing when he was in solitary. Dick always had the certainty he wasn’t alone, no matter what or where he would jump, there was always, _always_ someone on the other side, next to him, to grab him. A father, a friend, a brother, a mate, ready to help him if he failed, never to let him go and land together.

This time he didn’t feel that way.

He was at the edge of the precipice with no stairs, no gun, and no one around him. Alone, empty, lost, scared, and terrified of what was down there, but willing to jump regardless of the consequences of the fall. He considered that, in his actual situation, he preferred to risk all he had in that descent into the unknown (don’t sing it Richard, is not the moment) rather than letting go of the second opportunity they had been given.

He didn’t care, he didn’t care to end up sunk and crushed if in the process he got back what he was missing so much right now, when it was time to jump. Those hands, their presences, the guarantee they would be there no matter what, they would catch him, forgive him.

His brothers, any of them.

He didn’t care, he didn’t care at all, didn’t care about anything, he just wants them back. He hadn’t wanted anything more for years after lost them. He would do anything, and had reaffirmed that to himself a thousand times when he ran out of the Watchtower to run into the manor, when he sent as many text as he could to the others so they knew the situation and go there as soon of possible -despite knowing many were going to ignore him as always, an Babs would have to do the job- and also when he convinced Bruce to get the Batplane ready immediately to go where they needed.

He knew from the shine in his eyes that he didn’t even have to tell him that, he was about to do it before he got there. Judging by that and Alfred’s gaze when he showed up at the door, they had received the news even before he set a single foot outside the Watchtower.

Babs had offered to analyze all the images they had and determine the current location of the missing Robins. Not only because no one else would be in a position and state to do so, but because there was a lot, so many. Six years of images had been slammed into Oracle’s powerful systems and appeared so fast before them that Dick nearly passed out. He still was dizzy, even after the trip to the manor, Alfred’s breakfast, and the brief wait for the results.

When they obtained them, it was still only them in the Batcave, no one else had arrived even though they were on the way, but it was so evident they would go to Florida, so much. Because the decision was in the air and the resolution was palpable since the first picture had appeared on the Batcomputer’s screen. To think someone would disagree was crazy.

Alfred retired to the manor to cook and receive the others, and Bruce went to the Batplane again, both wanted to be distracted during the agonizing wait. He was about to follow him, before a small voice in his head reminded him it wasn’t a good idea. No matter how much the situation changed that morning, the tension between them was still a double-edged knife ready to cut them at any time, and see how Bruce entered the coordinates in the plane or studied the map of the small town they’re going to find the others it wasn’t going to be a good distraction.

Actually, nothing would be, he couldn’t lie to himself about that. All the feelings Dick had with him right now couldn’t be easily suppressed. Not after this, not having an actual photo of them in front of him, knowing they would be looking for them in a few hours or less. He had to get away from the batcomputer, rush to another part of the cave just to think, feel and not to fall back into the void with nowhere to hold onto. Relief, happiness, euphoria, comfort, concern, impatience, all flooded him and pushed more and more towards the edge, and he didn’t even care, nor did he want to stop it.

After all, he would soon be seeing his brothers. Was there anything more important than that? Clearly not.

Now, Dick wasn’t stupid. Many thought the opposite, that he was naïve and too positive for his own good. Rather than that, he knew how to have his feet on the ground when he should. But there were just times he didn’t want to, like this one, for example.

He would like to say he was divided, in conflict, but it wasn’t true. Most of him was excited, agitated, and just a step away from taking the batplane alone to go where he knew Tim and Jason were. And the other part of him totally silenced and ignored due to the other, had a negligible will to reason and think about this and about how wasn’t going to end well.

Going there wasn’t going to make anything better, Tim and Jason didn’t want to see them, didn’t want to know anything from them, much less about him, _especially_ about him. And if his disappearance along with the following years hadn’t been an indicator of that, only had to look carefully at the photos Oracle had sent.

The way they were together, walking around, smiling, and going into those places of the small town in a relaxed way. It is obvious they had another life now, different, and far from them, it was easy to see. If they weren’t involved, it was because they had wanted in that way and going there was only another way to make them want to run away again. Maybe they didn’t even let them talk, maybe they would just fight and flee when they saw them, without giving them a chance to say anything.

What was he going to say anyway? _“Hi guys, how you doing? I know you ran away because I wanted to ruin your life, forgive me? Yes? Cool! Let’s go back and pretend nothing happened!”_

No. It was crazy.

Everything was crazy and despite knowing it was, and it was wrong to chase them like that, they were going to do it either way. Because six years, _six years_ , Dick has spent six years without seeing them, without knowing anything from them. 6 years, 72 months and 2191 days knowing they hate him, they ran away from him, they will not be able to forgive the horrible things he did.

He can’t take it anymore. He can’t. When he close his eyes he hear the screams in the cave, when he have nightmares he sees blood on the ground and his hands, he sees Tim crying, Damian being terrified of him, Jason at his feet, Bruce yelling _“What have you done? Why?”_. It was an accident, please, it was an _accident_.

He yearns, he _needs to_ see them, to know they are okay and to beg for their forgiveness. He needs it like breathing, literally, because Dick has the impression, he had been holding his breath for six years and now, at this moment, he feels he’s letting himself breathe a little. But it won’t be until he see them, until he talk to them, until Jason says him “I forgive you” that he won’t be able to get rid of the weight he has been carrying since that day.

That’s why he shut up his rational part with everything he had, ignoring how this told him that more than forgiveness, Jason would punch him, and he might make Tim cry again with the fact that they couldn’t let them go. But he ignored it, ignored everything, and simply retraced his steps and went back to the batcomputer to check the coordinates again and find out if Oracle had given them new information.

When he went there, he didn’t expect to see Damian arrive, nor to witness from the distance how he approached the keyboard with his head down, determined to do something until he looked up and saw those photos. Dick could see how the last Robin’s firm posture dissipated in an instant to stand there, astonished at the sight.

He couldn’t blame him, it had taken him even harder to react properly after witnessing that moment with Babs, and if he had made sure it wasn’t a dream it was because he had scratched himself with the remains of the cups he dropped on the floor in his surprise.

Damian hadn’t moved an inch when he reached him. He just kept staring at the screen until he spoke, assuring him that those pictures were real, it was true, they had found them, would go after them, it was happening, it was not a dream.

Being able to tell him all that made him almost breathe again, feeling that he had stuck his head out of that well where he had been drowning for so long. And even though seeing Damian cry caused him anguish, -because his little, precious brother, whom he disappointed and failed, didn’t cry so easily- it was okay. Because he was almost sure from the way he cried silently, almost without realizing he was doing it and looking at him surprised as if Dick has given him the best news of his life, it was because he was happy, relieved. He should be, because Dick was, he wouldn’t be surprised if he starts crying too.

Because they would be together again, all the family, everything would be okay, it was fine, _it was fine_.

“No.”

Until it wasn’t. 

Dick looked at Damian warily, recognizing the stiff, severe tone he used. Even when the younger was just wiping away the tears with his sleeve, he could perceive the way he had recovered from the initial surprise and was beginning to build walls, defenses around him, one after another as he breathed deeply and gave him a fierce and determined gaze.

For him, it was almost yesterday when Damian was so small, he didn’t even reach his hips, when he gave him that same gaze, but loaded with hatred and sadness. He accepted him as his little brother so quickly, enjoyed teaching him so much, teaching him that it was good to feel, to mourn, that his sadness was not a sign of weakness. However, now when that sadness had turned into complete mistrust and resentment towards him, he felt like how need to go looking for the other two grew more and more, because if he got them back, would Damian forgive him too? Could he get all his brothers back at once?

“Where’s Bruce?” The younger asked breaking the brief silence after his refusal.

Dick tried to ignore the brief prick of grief produced by the knowledge that he no longer called him “father”. Although, well, it’s not like he earned that right. He also didn’t deserve to be called anything other than “Grayson”. With a sigh, he pointed to the hangar.

“He’s with the batplane.”

Damian didn’t seem to be agitated by that simple and obvious answer, at least externally, but from his gaze, he knew he didn’t like that at all.

“Stop him.” He declared loudly, angry.

“What? Why?” Richard asked, more confused than ever, a bad feeling beginning to flood him.

“Nobody’s going to Florida.”

Dick knew he was looking at him like he was completely crazy, didn’t try to hide it either. Of all the things he had thought would surprise him today, this wasn’t one of them, because he never had thought anyone would refuse to go see Tim and Jason, let alone Damian.

“What?” He asked again, wondering if this was some type of joke.

“You can’t go to Florida.” Damian repeated, irritation tinting his voice. “I’m not going to allow it.”

“D-Damian, what are you talking about?” Now, he was feeling the impotence invade him, he didn’t understand it. “We have to find them.”

“No, you won’t.”

“What-?” He spluttered, astonished. The other didn’t seem to mind, just stood firmly, and crossed his arms over his chest, without hesitation. “What’s this?”

“You’re not that stupid, Grayson.”

The last thing was said in a tone that radiated complete disappointment, it was like a direct blow to his face, which left him quiet for a few seconds and then felt the anger and helplessness increased. What the hell was wrong with him? Of course he wasn’t stupid, of course he knew it was wrong, that Tim and Jason didn’t want them there, and Damian did it too, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care about _anything_ , he knew and ignored it because he needed to do this, he should do it desperately from the day he spilled blood on his hands.

He thought Damian didn’t do it either, seeing how these last years he hasn’t been able to look at him. He understood it, he hated him for what he had done, and had every right to do it, but he seemed to be in constant mourning and so he thought he would be the first to want to get on the plane. Finding out he was wrong did nothing to help his already stunted emotional stability.

“We have to go, Damian.” He declared confidently, crossing his arms as well. He wasn’t going to change his mind, he couldn’t.

“No.” The other replied in the same tone. “I won’t allow it.”

“Why?” He asked, frustrated.

“Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes!” He said confused. “I thought you would be the first to want to go, that you would be happy to know where they are.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” Damian snapped. “What do you exactly expect with all this?”

“Fix it, of course.” He replied convinced. It was more than obvious, right? “Talk with them…”

“And you think it will turn out well?”

“Yes!”

“And then? What? Will you force them to return to Gotham?” He said looking at him again in that mix of disappointment and anger that tore him so much inside. “It won’t work and it’s crazy.”

Coming from him, who two days or less ago had been involved in an explosion because he couldn’t bear the anniversary of the disappearance, it was a lot. He knew it, but… 

“It’s Tim and Jason!”

“I know that! That’s why!” Damian exclaimed, looking frustrated at the situation. “For God’s sake, look at them!”

Damian turned and pointed at the photos displayed on the Batcomputer’s screen. Those where Jason was laughing, Tim seemed to have slept more than two hours, where both had grown up and were more adult, more mature, different, _happy_.

He had to look away.

“They will listen to us.” He didn’t know if he was saying that to convince Damian or himself.

“They won’t.” The younger refuted instantly as he turned again to look at him, more frustrated than ever. “Don’t you see?”

“They will!” He insisted. “We will give them no choice, and then we will fix everything.”

“Grayson, they don’t want to see you!”

That hurt. Because it was true. Dick was so ashamed of it he didn’t even know what to do with himself.

“I don’t care.” He said shaking his head.

Damian’s anger and frustration grew in him so fast that could be seen for miles, he knew it was because he refused to admit the reality, surely along with the fact that Damian couldn’t assimilate the whole discovery at once. But he had no choice, he was so upset, so nervous, so desperate that Damian opposing him didn’t help him at all. Only confused and disturbed him, because how could he refuse? It was something beyond his understanding.

“That’s the problem.” Damian began to scold him; it was incredible he was the older and despite that his little brother had to make him reason. “They don’t want to see anyone, the said goodbye and ran away, and you want to believe this plan would fix something? You’re hunting them.”

“They had given us no choice.” The most spiteful part of him told him that if Jason and Tim loved him, loved them, at least a little, they must have missed them, he was sure. And thanks to that the plan could work, they would listen to them, they would not run away when they saw them.

“That’s bullshit!” The younger said. “You sound like him.”

He knew that, also knew that very well. He sounded just as paranoid and stubborn as Bruce when he invaded anyone’s privacy under the excuse of overprotection or security. But Dick just shook his head and denied it, denied everything, didn’t want’ to admit it.

“Damian, it’s been six years!” He exclaimed, as if that were enough to support his decisions.

“That doesn’t change anyth-” 

“We are their family; they can’t stay mad at us after so long.” Never in his life had a fight lasted this long, not even when he wanted to get away from Bruce’s shadow.

“Can you stop lying to yourself for five fucking seconds?!” Damian yelled at him, losing his temper.

That made him shudder, because curiously, that angry and weary yell had reminded him the same one Damian let out to stop the other fight years ago, that night when everything changed. 

Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he wanted to. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to convince Damian to go and meet Tim and Jason, as much as they knew it was wrong, they had to go, but the younger still refused. At this point, neither wanted to surrender, and knowing them, along with how their emotions are shaking them, they might really end up fighting for real.

“Look at them!” Damian exclaimed again as he pointed at the screen. “Grayson, please, look at them!”

He finally did, breathing heavily and totally in conflict. Damian’s words sinking him deeper and deeper. Of course it wasn’t that easy. Everything was not going to fix with a single talk. He was already very aware the disappearance of those two didn’t happen only due to a discussion about the nature of their relationship, no, that was the straw that broke the glass after an accumulation of years of conflict, fights and negligence by some of them, including him. To say Tim and Jason were family, that they would welcome them with open arms for it, was selfish and wrong. They didn’t feel part of the family for a long time, didn’t seem them as one because they were wrong in making them feel like one.

But he couldn’t admit that, he couldn’t. He really wanted to think they would get there, talk about the latest fight, and it would work out without having to talk about the years before, about how he broke Tim’s trust or misjudged Jason. No.

“When was the last time you saw Drake smiling?” Damian asked seriously, without even let him take a breath. “And Todd?”

Long ago. And it hurts, it burns inside. It was his fault, his fault, he would do anything to see them smile again. Everyone, Tim, Damian, Jason, Stephanie, Cass, he wanted to see them smile for real. He missed them so much.

“They left for a reason and here you are, planning to screw it up.” The younger pointed to him and even without looking into his eyes, he knew he was judging him. “What do you expect to happen? Do you really think they want to come back _here_?”

Yes. Yes. That’s what he wanted, they back in Gotham, with them, together again. But he couldn’t have that, it was too late.

“I have to go, Dami.” He ended up saying with a shaky sigh.

Damian couldn’t understand it, didn’t know what it was like to carry so much guilt, so much pain in him. But he didn’t want him to know it either.

“You won’t.” The other ordered again, angrier if he could.

“Damian, please.”

“You. Won’t. None of you!”

“You can’t decide that.” As much angry he was, Dick wasn’t the only one who planned to do this, he couldn’t stop or convince everyone.

“I have more rights than you to do it!”

That caused another prick -like a stab- in his chest, one that nearly took his breath away. He had to force himself to relax in order to think again, not drown anymore. Dick turned his head for a second, so he didn’t have to look at Damian, angry and disappointed in front of him, and be able to calm down. During that, he caught a familiar shadow hiding in the cave’s darkness, silent and deadly. Cass had arrived, but didn’t seem to want to intrude, just looking and analyzing as usual, waiting to intervene when was necessary. Grayson sighed and turned back to his brother, annoyed.

“That’s what you think?” Richard asked, trying not to sound hurt, which he didn’t know if he could hide at this point.

“You don’t?” Damian asked in response fiercely. “Tell me, whose fault is all this?”

“Stop.” He ordered instantly. He didn’t need this, not now.

“Why? Don’t you like truth being told at your face?” The other attacked again, with cruel sarcasm. “You had no problem doing that to Jason that night.”

“You’re going too far.” He warned. It’s not as if it was new for him, to someone saying something like that, six years was time enough for many fights like this after all. But he had never had it with Damian, mostly because to fight first they would have to talk, and it was very sad to realize this was the longest conversation they had in a long time.

“Am I?” Damian exclaimed then, looking genuinely stunned. “I’m not the one who plans to hunt down his brothers after trying to kill them and ruin all their effort to hide!”

“Their effort to hide?!” Dick asked shocked, eyes wide open. What the fuck? “How can you care about that?!”

Again, Damian’s anger seemed to grow like waves, threatening to swallow him every time he said something he didn’t like.

“Todd was right, you’re a selfish shit!” He yelled at him suddenly, even more pissed off if possible. “You always hide yourself saying that you do it for the family, but you only think about yourself and do what you want! You don’t care about ruin everything!”

What?

_What?_

Damian didn’t seem to notice the slip, whether or not what he was saying made sense, just looked at him with anger. Frustrated because he couldn’t make him reason. Dick knew that teaching Damian to accept and control his emotions was one thing but being aware that was one of his biggest flaws was another, and his temperament along with a sharp tongue is his undoing once he lost his temper.

Now, nervous and shaken, he had let out something that sounded more suspicious than he wanted, and the slip that he was worried about the other’s efforts to hide being in vain now made Dick’s heart race and he stopped to look at his brother closely, a small suspicion growing in his mind.

“That’s not true!” He answered again, this time paying more attention. “I just want to see them.”

“You’re not even going to come close.”

“You can’t avoid that!” Dick tried to explain. It was already useless, even if he convinced him now, they had already found them anyway, disabled the system was hiding them. They knew their location and couldn’t hide anymore; it was matter of time they ended up having them face to face.

“Watch me!”

“I can’t understand you!” He ended up saying, without believing they were having this discussion. “Why don’t you want to take this opportunity? We have been looking them for years!”

“We shouldn’t have the opportunity, to begin with.” Damian replied shaking his head. “I can’t let you go there.”

Damian’s stance didn’t waver, at least from his point of view he was still as firm as when they started arguing. However, the slight, almost imperceptible miscalculated footstep he managed to hear behind him, made him know Cass had seen something in Damian that made her fail, or at least try to warn him there was _something_ he wasn’t perceiving, that he was letting go.

“I’m not going to change my mind.” He clarified again with all the firmness he could muster, which wasn’t much considering he felt everything falling apart.

“Neither do I.” Damian said.

“Why?” He had to ask it, confused. “What’s wrong? Why does this matter so much to you, Damian?”

The last Robin didn’t say anything, seemingly determined. But there was something weird, something wrong, everything seemed to indicate it. In the meaningless sentences, Cass’s reaction, and Dick’s instinct screaming at him to know more.

“Don’t you miss them?” Richard asked reproachfully, trying to use another strategy.

It seemed to work because the little temper Damian had seemed to tremble. Maybe it wasn’t where he had to aim, but if he pressed the right buttons, he might find something, even if he didn’t, maybe could convince him.

“Shut up.” The younger ordered with a grunt.

“I know you do.” He continued, ignoring him. Although that wasn’t a lie, Damian missing Tim and Jason was no secret to anyone at this point. “Me too, so much, that’s why I need to do this, I need to see them, why don’t you?”

“Shut. Up.” Damian ordered again, beginning to hiss like a cat when they felt the need to defend themselves.

“Do you feel that guilty?” Dick asked almost worried, even though he knew he was crossing a line he shouldn’t. Well, Damian crossed one earlier too.

“Shut up!”

“It’s because of your past?” He asked again, looking at how he stirred, like lava from a volcano before exploding. “They’ve forgiven you, will do it again!”

“Grayson, shut up! Now!” Again, that scream went wild, his walls and control had fallen completely.

“If you help us it will be easier to get them back!”

He knew asking him that, when he was fiercely against both looking for them and get them return to Gotham, would be too much.

It was, because Damian didn’t even seem to breathe or think about what he was going to say next before his jade eyes shined with fury and completely exploded screaming at the top of his lungs.

“How dare you ask me that?!”

“It’s the best-” Dick tried to explain.

“Don’t! It’s the worst thing you could ever ask me for!”

“Why?!” He asked again, shaken by the other’s explosion.

Why? Why? Why? Why is he like that? Why did he hate him so much? Why he didn’t want to see them? Why he didn’t want to fix this? Why couldn’t he forgive him? Why couldn’t everything be like before? Why? _Why?_

“Because who do you think helped them to escape?!” Damian shouted. “It was me! Idiot! Open your fucking eyes! It was me! Me!”

Silence.

For Dick, many things suddenly fell into place.

Before he knew it, he had already thrown the first punch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how it was?
> 
> Do you now that thing what happens when you start to write and think about a fanfic and you already have some scenes or something specific you want to write since the beginning? The last scene was something like this for me, I'm glad to finally share it with you!
> 
> I'm not sure about what to talk related to this chapter, there are many things for sure. But first, the last time I forgot to explain why I choose Florida for Tim and Jason to stay, and it's basically for the memes, I'm sorry (?) One comment reminded me about it and I really thought it was genuinely important.
> 
> Now, starting for Dick, you see, he's not okay. Nobody's okay but Dick, well, he needs to talk to his brothers so much. I know what many people thought about him in the others chapters, things like "he doesn't realize?", but of course he did. For much as I like the Dick's image of a ray of sunshine, I know he's not that naive and of course he's aware about Tim and Jason needing to be alone in their new lifes, but he just choose to ignore it, it's simply like that. One of the things I liked so much about DC and Batfamily and heroes in general, is the proof that they are humans too, they feel, they mourn, and of course they fail and make wrong choices. I thought Dick's POV was the best way to explain the need to find the others even if it's wrong, just because he couldn't take it anymore. Of course there's still flashbacks and things to reveal, but for him it's enough for today.  
> And well, about Damian and his sudden confession, I have been trying to give clues about it since the beginning? But I don't know if I did it well. If you think about it well, when he talked about Tim and Jason dissapearance, he never asked "Why?" or "How?", his biggest concern was if they were okay and how could decided to do it so easily, even when he talked about the day they found the note, his thoughts were "oh it's true, they have gone for real", just as he started to realize what he had done and the consecuences. To see how the others found them and now are trying to get them back, well it couldn't be easy for him after all his effort, and Dick's attitude make everything worse.  
> Talking about the end, please don't be mad at me, they are shaken and angry about everything, I promise I will fix it later.
> 
> But yeah, I think that's all? Maybe, I don't know it's, 1 am, but If I remember something else I would edit this. Next chapter would we another different POV and a continuation of this, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and stay safe, see you next week!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra's POV. Cass knew a lot of things, always did. But she's human after all, she can fail, feel and miss her family. Sometimes she wishes she had been there, but now the only thing she had is the knolwedge of whatever they planned to do, it will be harsh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ~ How's everyone?
> 
> Here's the weekly chapter, just in time as always. Again, thank you so much for the comments, kudos and everything, hope you like this chapter as well! Lately I've been writing longer chapters but I think it's because we're in a part of the story where I just have to explain a lot, I think? Anyway, be ready for another fight, again (?) I will say more in the other notes.
> 
> Enjoy !

**_Now_ **

Cass knew a lot of things.

She always did, it wasn’t new to anyone. His father, David Cain, had deprived her and taken away many things throughout her life, like her childhood, stability, a normal home, innocence, or her voice along the ability to use it. In return, he had turned her into what he longer desired, in a warrior, the perfect, deadly, silent killing machine, capable of reading the enemy and their movements in one way that very few could.

He took away her voice but allowed her to read and understand people far beyond. Many would consider it a blessing, others a curse, to her it was nothing more than her small but familiar and comfy personal hell.

Despite this, she was also aware that knowing something didn’t give her the full right to reveal it, she knew the limits, after all she also had secrets, everyone did. So, she could tell when someone was hiding something, but she also couldn’t guess or reveal it. She could also tell when someone was sad or stressed but knowing why it was beyond her abilities and intervening depended not only on her but on the other person’s will. From what Barbara Gordon taught her, it was best to act when she considered necessary, and if she had permission or words to do so.

From the beginning, Cassandra knew Red Hood and Red Robin were in love, maybe even before they did. It was neither unexpected nor surprising, they complemented the other well enough. In addition, both were very easy to read, since Jason was passionate, effusive and motivated by his emotions, expressive even in the way he breathed; and Tim, despite appearing the opposite, his eyes always said too much, and was very close to her, he couldn’t escape her scrutiny.

Timothy was also the first person she called “brother”, who taught her what was like to be a family, loving and being loved despite the pain, the trauma. That’s why, when he began to love someone else in a different way, she soon realized it as well as the fact that he was strongly requited.

Of course, she realized later that they did everything to hide it, both their feelings for each other when they began to emerge, and their relationship when it was consolidated. She understood, it shouldn’t have been easy. It was obvious why they did; it was nobody else’s business. And seeing the reaction when the whole thing was finally revealed, they did well.

If someone had asked Cass, she would have been sincere (within all she could express, of course). She would have tried to explain how happy she was for them and how she considered it good news. She would have said how Tim’s constant weariness and sadness has dissipated a bit after being with Jason, as well as the other’s blind anger and constant tension; How nice it was to see that uncertainty and uneasiness about whether those feelings were right or reciprocated, being replaced by tender smiles and sneaky soft touches. Cass would have said to leave them alone, because they were happy and safe, and that made her happy too because that kind of happiness was something they had to grab and not let go off considering how their lives were.

But nobody asked her. She couldn’t say anything. She also couldn’t have found the words to do it correctly, but at least she would have tried if given the chance. Which they didn’t do.

Black Bat was involved in a case which lead her from Hong Kong to the edge of the Xinjiang desert itself, where coverage was a bit bad and her infiltration mission could be compromised. As much as she reported her location and plans, getting an answer and being in touch to know what was happening in Gotham was a bit difficult. So, find out after that her brothers had deserted and disappeared during those weeks in which she had been uncommunicated wasn’t funny.

Now, years after receiving that news while hiding from the cold in a cabin in Tibet, she was going down the stairs towards to the cave with the text Dick had sent repeating in her head, the one that said they had found the missing Robins and she had to go to the manor quickly.

Sometimes, she wishes she had been there. In the moment they found out the Red’s relationship, in the discussion afterwards, in the other fights that followed. Because she could have said so much, she could have changed _so_ much. But she wasn’t, she couldn’t. And now they have to deal with the consequences.

Stephanie, with whom now she lived, had sat in the driver’s seat after parked the car at the manor’s entrance, in silence and begging for a moment to be alone, to prepare herself mentally. Then, Alfred had allowed her to hug him tightly, even if that distracted him from his chores in the kitchen. She hadn’t seen the others yet, but she was sure they were in the cave. Even so, she knew that what was coming wasn’t going to be great, whatever they decided to do were going to be difficult to face or assimilated and that, surely, would led them to relive fights and discussions that they had for years. The difference this time is that she planned to intervene.

Indeed, when she arrived the cave, she witnessed the fragility in which the dynamics of the bats were currently, seeing how Dick and Damian -those who least should be fighting- argued strongly in front of the batcomputer.

Blending into the shadows, she approached them, stealthy and watchful, carefully with her surroundings and listening the discussion going on. Dick wanted to go after his brothers, Damian refused to do it.

The photos of the missing Robins on the screen shook her heart, making her smile. They seemed happy, satisfied, more than when they had to hide, and that made her so happy. She wouldn’t lie and say things like she never thought they wouldn’t be able to run away, indeed, she knew if the smallest but adequate circumstances were given at the right time, they would. And it happened, to the chagrin of some and the relief of others they clung to that happiness that Cass knew they had and didn’t let it escape, even having to leave them (her) behind.

However, looking at Dick, his older brother, she could say he thought otherwise. He denied it fiercely, he didn’t want to give in. He never thought they would leave everything, leave him behind, whatever the reason was. He wanted to believe they would figure things out before they had to run away, and now, that hasn’t been the case, he was just sad and desperate. Every word that came from his lips, every gesture his body made showed how helpless he felt, how much he needed to do what he was begging to Damian, to fly to Florida just to see the other two. He would do anything, he would fight with whoever, he had no limits, he seemed so defeated and angry at the same time.

When he turned his head, so he didn’t have to look at Damian after his harsh words, he was aware of her presence. His indigo eyes fixed on her for those brief seconds of silence to then turn around again and continue the fight. It was long enough for Cass to be aware of how the weight of guilt was sinking her brother down, making him obsessed with finding the others and going back to be the “family” they were before.

That wasn’t possible, not matter how hard he tried. It couldn’t happen. She knew it and so did Bruce, who without being seen also watched the development of the discussion from the other part of the cave, surely collecting information from it to confirm certain suspicions.

Suspicions that focused on Damian.

Her little brother was suspect since the start. At least for her, since she didn’t need to look at him twice when she returned to Gotham to realize there was _something_ weird with him. It was evident in his posture, his attitude, in his way of avoiding everyone, in his resentful gaze and constant tension around them. He knew more than he was saying, and had done something, she didn’t know _what_ , but somehow, he had a key role in the whole thing which didn’t exempt him of guilt. Didn’t matter how much the others wanted to believe that guilt was due to Damian’s past with his now disappeared brothers, with the murder attempts and constant disputes, no. It was recent, it had to do with this, because his rejection towards the others was genuine, and how she explains Jonathan then?

Superboy could barely look any of them in the eye without falling apart, his relationship with his father was battered and if Damian’s attitude were suspicious, his had neon signs placed around him.

Now, with his whole body screaming contradictions and anger, leaving slips behind him, Damian strongly refused at the decision to see the other two, stating specific reasons, but at the same time suspicious. That angered and intrigued Dick, who in the end had decided to get the truth out of him by breaking his temper, making Cass prepare to intervene.

When Conner Kent approached her one year ago, asking her if she knew what their little brothers were hiding, her answer was simple and concise: No.

She didn’t know, she couldn’t. She can read bodies and gestures, not minds. She’s not a meta, she has no powers. She’s human and also fails, also feels, also want to see his brothers because misses them, also want to know what Jon and Damian hide, because knows it’s consuming them more and more.

But she had never been in a position to ask, to know (does she wants to know?) Except today because things have changed. So, she slipped her foot to warn Dick he was missing something, he had to keep pushing. She didn’t move when Damian’s patience ended when his emotions took over. She held her breath when she knew he was going to say something he was going to regret.

“Because who do you think helped them to escape?!” Damian shouted. “It was me! Idiot! Open your fucking eyes! It was me! Me!”

Oh.

She knew it.

There was silence, Dick and Bruce stood completely still, assimilating that, and understanding everything as quickly as possible. She knew everything fell into place for them when realization mixed with anger flooded their bodies, and by the time Dick throw the first punch she was already running towards them.

She let Damian strike back and punch Dick only because she knew he had been holding back for a long time, but she didn’t allow anything more. In a blink of an eye, before everything could escalate, she grabbed Dick by the back, kicked Damian off, and knocked them to the ground as she stood between them, ending the fight instantly.

“No.” She sentenced seriously and glaring at them, challenging them to dare to contradict her.

They wouldn’t, because even outraged they were smarter than that. Furthermore, Bruce was also approaching them and starting a fist fight now was not the best idea, neither was going to allow them to go that far and it wasn’t the moment.

They stood up, wounded, furious, on guard and looking at each other with rancor.

“You knew!” Dick reproached, angrier than before. “You’ve always knew where they were!”

Damian jerked at that accusation, clenching his teeth tightly, as if he were holding himself back from punching him again. Everything said he really wanted to do it if were not for her presence and his father, now in front of them, watching the scene quiet like a heavy and judicious shadow that made them nervous.

“I haven’t said that!” The last Robin denied quickly.

“How could you?! How could you do this to us?!”

“Learn to fucking listen, asshole!” He yelled back. “I’ve never knew where they were!”

“Why would I believe you?! You’ve been lying us for years!” Dick accused him again.

Damian was ready to fight back before Bruce’s firm, analytical voice cut him off.

“He didn’t know it.” Bruce said firmly. “He’s saying the truth.”

He was right in that statement, he wasn’t. If Damian had known where Tim and Jason were all this time it would have been very different. Even in his confession, in his reactions, you could tell it was information he didn’t have before.

His father saying this as if he were psychoanalyzing him like any villain made Damian give him the most hatred, offensive and reproachful look he had seen him make over the years.

“Speak.” Bruce asked the younger, in that tone he use during interrogations, as if something like that was going to work and Damian would magically confess.

“Fuck you.” He insulted his father quickly without vacillation.

If Alfred were here, he would have scold him, might even have put in the order she couldn’t quite establish. But her grandfather was upstairs, cooking compulsively and sad, _so_ sad.

“Damian, if you don’t speak, I swear to god-”

Dick started to say that taking a few steps closer, his anger dominating him again before she gave him a warning look to step back. The she looked at Damian, hoping to make him nervous with her stare. She also wants answers.

“What do you want from me?!” He asked, looking surrounded. “I helped them to leave, not hide!”

It made sense. Not knowing their location once they were out of sight was easier and safer after all, once they were gone, he couldn’t track them down anymore and it didn’t matter how much they’d regret it, it was too late. The best way to avoid betray them was not knowing where they were going, it was the smartest decision.

“But why? Why did you do something like that?!” Dick asked, seemed to feel betrayed.

Damian chuckled, sarcastic, looking at Grayson and then at his father, as if he found funny that they were wondering something like that when the answer was pretty obvious.

“Look at you. Look around.” He pointed at them, with anger and aversion. “It was killing them; you were killing them! This life, everyone! They couldn’t take it anymore!”

“It’s not- ”

“Drake was on the verge of suicide!” He exclaimed, now frantic. “And you couldn’t even look at Todd! The only good thing they had was the other and you wanted to destroy that!”

The burning shine in his eyes had returned, Damian seemed to have so many things to say, so much kept within himself. Looking at him now was similar to seeing a balloon deflate, expelling everything inside him after so long, without barriers, without caring about the consequences at last.

“It was dangerous.” Bruce justified.

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” He growled at his father again. “You have the proof on the fucking screen!”

“That’s-”

“The truth! It’s the truth!” He yelled furiously, without hesitation. “You wanted to shatter them further, I couldn’t allow it! I owed that to them.”

“We only wanted to protect them…” Dick muttered, stunned.

“From what?” Asked the younger. “The only danger was you; you still are.”

A brief silence followed that statement, in which Dick shrugged himself and Bruce tried his best to hide a shake, which was useless to her.

“Not an hour has passed since you found out where they are, and you already want to drag them back.” He kept scolding them. “For what? To use them as before?”

“That was not what was happening.” Bruce denied this time.

“Oh, no? I wonder why they ran away then.” The other answered sarcastically. “I’m sure it wasn’t because of the kindness and acceptance you get around here.”

“I can’t believe you really helped them…” Dick muttered, he still seemed to have trouble assimilating it. “You’ve hidden it, all this time.”

“I would do it again.”

Dick shook his head, almost at the edge of tears. The fact that two of his brothers abandoned him and the rest hated him was one thing, but it turned out that Damian himself was the one who helped them to run away from him, and that made things a thousand times worse. Cass wanted to hug him, tell him it was okay to feel that way, but he didn’t avoid the fact that she also knew they were hiding something and shut it up, she didn’t know if Dick would see this as another betrayal or not, she didn’t know if anything she had to say would fix something now.

“How?” Bruce ended up asking, wanting to continue the interrogation.

That was something Cass also wanted to know, since she didn’t even know yet how they had found them after years of absolute silence. But whatever Damian did to hide them in such a way had to be great.

“I have contacts.” The brunette replied stiffly, after a brief hesitation.

Bruce stared at him thoughtfully, then frowned in disgust.

“Talia.” He said coldly.

The League of Assassins, or at least the faction that was faithful to Damian’s mother. It wasn’t unknown the woman was trying to get out of the yoke of demon’s head, trying to gain the throne’s power, even if it meant killing her own son on the way. She and her group had been trying to gain ground within the criminal world for a long time, creating their own dark web and using resources Ra was still trying to familiarize himself with. They had enough material and personal to hide someone from the bats if they wanted to. And Damian, being of her blood, it wouldn’t have cost him to get a favor from her, anything, if they put aside the great disappointment that had been for her over the years.

“Damian, what have you done?”

Dick asked that as if the younger had made a deal with the devil itself, which was true. Now, if he had obtained this from Talia as a mere mother-son favor or by giving something in return, it was something they couldn’t know. They wouldn’t, judging by how the boy didn’t even move a muscle at the accusations and seemed to answer Dick’s question with a gaze that seemed to say, “Nothing you can prove.”

“It doesn’t make sense…” Dick thought aloud, still devastated but trying to find logic in everything. “Even if it was the league, why also metas couldn’t…”

That question asked out loud made Damian’s breath catch for a second, his muscles ready to fight imperceptibly. Cass was sure she was the only one to notice it, but it didn’t say anything good. It was a good question after all, since that had been another of the unknowns and problems that had arisen as a result of the disappearance, because not a single meta could locate Tim and Jason, not even the kryptonians. Whatever method or power they used was useless, it was as if something or _someone_ would have been blocked them.

Cass didn’t have to think long to know who it was, but Dick’s eyes widened with surprise halfway through the question, realizing.

“Jon…” He whispered stunned.

Damian went from being slightly tense to being defensive and aggressive in less than a second. Just one more provocation and she’d have to grab him directly so he wouldn’t kill someone.

“Don’t drag him into this!” He ordered, which was already useless.

“He’s already in.” The other replied, stunned, almost trembling, suffering another betrayal. “It was because of him, right?”

“Leave him alone!”

“H-He did something to block metas, lied to us too…”

“Leave. Him!”

“I can’t!” Dick exclaimed, shaking his head. “Do you realize the reason we couldn’t find them is because of him?! It his fault!”

That statement, cruel as it sounded, was true. Technology could fail, couldn’t not doing well the job, but metas were certain and they had the best at their disposal, they could have found them in seconds. Having the kryptonians on their side was in their favor too, but if one of them was against them and had decided to annul the others, the result was years of searching without result.

Jon’s influence had been vital but being pointed out by Dick caused Damian to lose patience again, trying to attack Grayson in blind anger ready to beat him up. Hopefully for Nightwing, she was there to stand in his way, grab his shoulders tightly, and push him away. For this time, she wanted to avoid the physical fight, but with everything she was witnessing, she didn’t know if she would do it again.

“Fuck off! The only ones guilty of all this are you!”

She had to push Damian again and keep Dick under surveillance, because they were getting pissed off and provoking each other again, they didn’t seem to want to give in until they were punching each other. She was considering the option of knocking them out to calm down when Bruce raised his voice authoritatively.

“Damian, give me your phone.” He ordered approaching them and extending his hand. “Your comms too.”

The younger remained tense under her touch, clenching his jaw and now looking at his father with anger. It was clear why he was doing this, now that Jonathan had been confirmed as an accomplice and they both were firmly against their trip to Florida, he was cutting all forms of communication between them to prevent them from doing anything about it. Jon or any contact who Damian could use against them, like the league, for example.

“Do you think that shit is going to work?” Damian asked resentfully. “Jonathan can hear me anyway.”

“Do you think you’re the only one with a Super on his side?” Bruce answered. “Phone. Comms. Now.”

Damian growled loudly again, shoving her away as he took out his things. Bruce’s statement had been clear and concise, as much as his son dated a Kent, he hadn’t been the first one to be friendly with one. It seems that Bruce had personally commissioned himself, maybe with a simple whisper that Clark would have been waiting, that Jonathan wouldn’t interfere with them and their plans. So, it was going to happen anyway, they planned to go for Tim and Jason whatever the price.

“You are making a big mistake.” Damian said to his father as he tossed his comms to him angrily.

“Your opinion is no longer valid.” He replied, grasping the objects with precision. “You are clearly not objective.”

“As if you were.”

Bruce didn’t answer, or at least didn’t want to. Cass could tell he had something else to say, right on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t dare to do it. Dick did it instead.

“You lied to us…” He said. “We can’t trust you.”

Damian looked at Dick thoughtful, then his father. He shrugged.

“You never did.”

Richard lowered his head; Bruce remained silent. Cass remember the words from the security camera video of that night, that one Bruce tried so hard to delete but Barbara rescued and let her watch, the one where they tell Jason they couldn’t trust him, because he was a murderer after all.

Like her, like Damian.

Bruce turned around and started walking away from them, ready to do whatever would distract him after all the revelations, like secure the comms he had took away from his son as if he was 14 years old again to prevent him from ruining his plans . Dick, still looking at the ground, was about to do the same, until Damian caught his attention again ready to throw the last emotional punch.

“When you see them, what are you going to do? Shoot them?”

Dick said nothing and left, surely to burst into tears where they couldn’t see him. Cassandra, if she could, would have too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there is it.
> 
> Before saying anything else, I have to announce that next week I won't upload a new chapter, there will be no update. Why? Well, because Jaytim Week starts June 1 and I will like to focus on it for a while bc my OTP, I won't participate in all days but the most and because of that I don't know if I will have time to have the next chapter for may 30, so surely the next chapter will be june 6 or maybe later or not, not sure. Sorry :(
> 
> Now, related to the chapter, I don't think I have much to say except I love Cassandra and I don't know if I have done her justice, but I tried (?) And as I said in the other notes I've been writing longer chapters but it's because they have to argue and reveal a lot and that's diffult (?), but at least Damian motives are out and how he did it, more or less. The next chapter will be a flashback with Bruce's POV and I will try to post it soon just like I said ~ 
> 
> And well, that's it. Thank so much again for reading and I forgot to say in the other chapters again but my tumblr is @heartless-error if you want to send me a meme or something (?)
> 
> That's all! Thank you and see you soon~


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's POV. He knew he wasn't a good father, he had always knew. But he was trying, like always. And he knew he couldn't get rid of all his mistakes too, but at least he wasn't alone facing them. He had Clark, he always had Clark, even commiting the same mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ~ How you doing?
> 
> Well, it has cost me sweat, blood and tears, but here's the weekly chapter, yeah. I know it have been two weeks without an update, first was because of JayTim Week and second because of the 57893475849593487 essays I had (and still have to do) for the end of semester, BUT here it is. 
> 
> Hope you like it ~

**_Six years ago_ **

Contrary to what many people seemed to think, Bruce didn’t always have everything under control.

He was trying, what was different. With all his strength, every day, with all the means and knowledge he had. Even if it was never enough, over and over again. The key was in that, in trying. It didn’t matter how many doubts were around him, how many problems arose against him or how much they tried to stop him, he had to keep trying, to solve it, showing a calm and in control facade so others didn’t know how much his mistakes or indecision haunted him in every step he took.

Bruce knew there was no need to do it, to be so controlling or to bury his insecurities so deeply and hidden from anyone who dared to look. But he also knew where those problems came from, everything that had fed them, and what brought them to light.

The desire to control even what he couldn’t born in him from the moment in which the sound of the lifeless bodies of his parents resounded in that alley, that fateful night, and since then he lived with it. That desire to watch, intervene, and always be prepared for the worst grew as he did too, and became the man, the supposed hero, he’s now. And it was when those closest to him suffered or were injured by his decisions or failures, which reaffirmed more and more in his being.

That feeling, that need, was like a vine with thorns. Pointy, infinite, dangerous, and sturdy, rooted within him without any limit, pressing and suffocating him everywhere, ready to hang him. It scratched his scars so that he would always remember them, suffocated his mind so that he would never forget it, and strangled his soul and that of those around him, because it was a double-edged sword where the line of protecting or controlling was easily blurred.

He couldn't get rid of it either, because then, what would be left of him? He was Batman. _Batman_. The one who always had a plan, a contingency, who stood out for his critical sense and his mind, what always had another alternative. He was the one whom the others looked at when they were trapped in a situation with no way out, the one who kept calm in extreme situations, the one who was able to save the day or the world thanks to his control.

He couldn't lose that, but it's not like he wanted to, or knew how, either. So, doing his best was all that was left. Keep calm, control. He tries it.

He tried but the manor was quiet. He knew it wasn’t something unexpected after what happened three nights ago, but it kept worrying him because it was as if everything had turned off suddenly.

Damian's firm, light footsteps were no longer heard in the hallways, his youngest son hadn’t left his room since that night, he had also refused to receive anyone and was recovering from his sprained ankle. The soft Richard’s laugh had also vanished, he was like a ghost, he knew that he walked around the corridors from time to time because he couldn’t bear the confinement, but he was impossible to detect. Alfred's courtesy couldn’t be seen either, he knew that the man was not only angry, but that he respected his desire to be alone right now. The presence of his daughter, Cassandra, was also lying much in need, as much as she was silent in itself, her stay was always appreciated. Stephanie's jokes had been replaced by cautious and angry looks upon learning what happened. Barbara hadn't even deigned to answer him when he asked for a certain favor the night before. Timothy and Jason had fallen into complete silence, nothing unexpected.

It was afternoon, but Bruce was in his office in the manor, thinking about how the place he had managed to fill with laughs, footsteps, and life over the years was now as empty and silent as when Thomas and Martha Wayne died.

He hadn't moved much, from the big chair in front of the expensive office desk, because he was still thoughtful and analyzing the argument that had happened in the cave three days before.

Bruce knew he wasn’t a good father. Like all of him, he _was trying_ , but he was very aware of reality. If someone asked him about the mistakes he had made regarding his children, he could list each and every one of them by heart, classify them by different categories, and then recite them out loud almost without thinking. This, obviously, was because he had them in his mind and insanely at all times and, of course, feed again those cravings for control that dominated him. The fear of losing them was too much, he couldn’t bear it, and that led him back to enter that infinite cycle that dominated his life.

The more he loved his children, the more he needed to protect them. That, in one way or another, involved controlling them and their environment, and the more he tried to do it, the more damage he did directly or indirectly. He always ended up failing, making mistakes. And these mistakes were present again, trying not to be repeated for then commit others instead.

He was also aware that most of his children hadn’t had an easy life. Everyone came to him as children whose circumstances had been difficult and unfavorable. He couldn’t be responsible for the trauma or abuse that others had done to them, he just helped to mitigate it, give them the happy, healthy home they deserved and tried to change things where possible. But at the end of the day, the adult who took responsibility for them was him, and definitely had made mistakes.

The worst and what tormented him most at the moment, is that if he listed those mistakes and removed the most obvious and indisputable of the list -how, for example, involve all of them in their crime crusade - most of them involved Tim and Jason in some way or another.

That certainly didn’t help him.

If he initially wouldn’t have been so hurt by Dick's departure to the Titans, perhaps he would have considered not controlling Jason the way he did when he adopted him or making the same mistakes as with his first child. If he hadn't been so convinced that the wounded but brave boy from the Bowery, needed Robin, he might not have felt like he needed to fill his older brother's shoes and run away later. If he had made it to Ethiopia in time, to the warehouse, Jason wouldn’t have died. If Jason hadn't died, he wouldn't have fallen into the spiral of self-destruction that Tim had to save him from, and he wouldn’t have turned him into Robin. If he hadn't turned Tim into Robin, maybe his parents were still alive, maybe he would have had a normal and happy life. If Tim had a normal life, Jason wouldn’t have risen with so much hatred and resentment towards them and wouldn’t have tried to kill him. If he hadn’t "died" later, Tim wouldn’t have lost another person, nor fallen into the same self-destruction from which no one could save him now.

If... If not...

There were so many events that he could have changed, and others not. So many mistakes, so many things could have been better. Everything turned in his head and had harassed him for three days. His bad decisions, the possibilities, the memories, all of that filled him with guilt and uncertainty, blamed him that it didn’t matter how human he was, how much he felt, because his mistakes always had more weight and consequences in the people he loved, whatever he did.

He remembered the despair he felt while holding Jason's corpse, bloody and broken as the warehouse burned and collapsed around him. The fear that ran through him when he helped to trait Tim's wounds after Red Hood's beating him up at the Titans' tower too, knowing who had done it. He remembered the disappointment and pain that Jason's spiteful words provoked him when he was ready to kill the Joker. Also, the understanding of Tim's tears after his father's death.

They were his sons. _His sons_. He felt and suffered more for them than for himself, and for the fact that because of his own crusade their lives have been so affected.

They had big hearts, unshakable will, and unmatched bravery. A potential within them that drove them to help others innately, to fight with everything they owned. It was that light, that ability, why they were Robin.

However, that didn’t take away the fact that his field-acquired wounds, both emotional and physical, could affect them on a deeper level than they could think. Endangering themselves, the other, and the rest of them with that hidden relationship that was revealed three nights ago.

Jason was the brave and fighting boy from the streets who decided to fight the crime he experienced firsthand. But the trauma related to the abuse, the streets, and his own death was still very entrenched inside him, shaping his decisions both inside and outside his vigilant life. The Lazarus Pit had made him violent and angry, a killer who lost control when one of his triggers of said trauma appeared, including the bats themselves. As much as he had improved his control, they still had no guarantee that the Pit Rage would appear at any time and become a threat for all of them again.

Tim, the sweet little Tim, was still the smart and kind boy who threw away all opportunity to live a normal wealthy child life to become an extraordinary hero, someone who cared for and saved people in a selfless and sacrificed way. But the experiences that came along with that decision were not as kind as he was, and while Tim gave his all, without contemplation, in exchange he lost family, friends and stability. Bruce was not stupid, he recognizes a severe depression when he saw it, and although no one knows what happened to his third child during the time he was lost in time -or what he had to do to get him out- it had to be bad enough for Timothy became the lifeless emotionless shadow which was now.

_“You’ve been years without knowing anything from us!”_ Jason said three nights ago.

It wasn't true, but it wasn't false either. He couldn't deny it with the same force as Richard did, because as much as he would like to say that both of them were still integrated in the family, it wasn’t true. They hadn't been in a long time, and they couldn't run away from it.

For him, it was always easier to treat Jason as if he had been a fallen soldier in battle because doing it as the son he left to die was too painful, it kept shaking him to the depths of his existence, perhaps that was why he hadn’t been able to integrate him among them again, in addition to all the history resulting from those events. He couldn't ignore his morality and methods, destructive and totally different from his. Neither the numerous attempts to harm him or the rest of the family, especially Tim. There was the fact that Red Hood operated in Gotham apart from the Outlaws, yes, but they hardly worked together or cooperated. They had their territories very defined, but he could barely catch a glimpse of Red Hood without twisting things, neither Jason. He knew that sometimes he was in the cave or the manor, but he always made sure not to see him and not stay long unless it was necessary.

For his part, Timothy, after he returned from his "death" and accepted Damian as Robin, he adopted the Red Robin alias and seemed to disappear entirely. He claimed to be in favor of carving out his own name as a hero, but he was elusive, smart, and determined. He went to live alone, to work with the Titans or at WE. It didn’t matter how many calls they made, how many emergencies or meetings would be held. Tim barely stepped on the manor, he didn’t stop to talk about anything other than the vigilant job, and long periods passed without seeing him. He hid his wounds very carefully and his habits began to be dangerous for him. They knew enough to realize that he was trying too hard and something was going very wrong but reaching out to help him without scaring him in the process was hard, complicated.

Maybe for all that and more, his sons didn’t trust him enough to reveal what was going on between them, that they were dating. He didn't blame them, he really deserved it, because he couldn't figure it out either. He also deserved they were angry with him and his opinion on the matter.

They could get mad at him, hate him, or yell at him. But he really believed that he had reason to say that relationship was something that should be discussed or thought more carefully.

Relationships on the field were dangerous, he knew it personally, and he still remembered the discomfort that had plagued the team when Barbara and Dick broke up so many years ago, not to mention Tim and Stephanie too. And he also remembers the serious injuries Jason inflicted on Tim, how much Red Hood lost control around him, and how little Tim has always valued himself and his injuries.

Jason's problems along with Timothy's emotional state were not a good combination at all. It wasn’t. It didn't matter how they looked at it, nor how many years will pass. Their story was too rough, there was too much torment, too much tension between them. They themselves were not in a position to have such a relationship with anyone, much less with the other. And if he already doubted the red team itself -despite its efficiency- he also couldn't help but doubt this.

He couldn't leave them to destroy each other, he couldn't. He knew that was how it would end, and the simple possibility that it might happen made his cravings for control beg him to take the reins of everything again, to fix all this and do it _now_.

However, he had already been too carried away by that feeling to know that it wasn’t a good idea to follow it. So, before he could do anything, he received a call. A call that lasted for hours, most of the night, where he got another perspective on the matter and helped him to decide and ask that favor from Barbara that he hadn't heard from yet.

Despite knowing there would be no response yet, he couldn't help but check his phone again to make sure, eager to be able to do something about it instead of sitting for hours in that office evaluating and planning the best course of action.

He was just going to think about that when a few firm touches on the window caught his attention, causing him to straighten and look at the window on his left suspiciously.

Even though he had told him that he didn't need him to come, there he was, his call.

Frowning, Bruce got up from his seat and went to the window to open it wide, looking at Clark Kent, who floated in front of him in his civilian clothes as if it were the most normal thing in Gotham in the middle of the afternoon.

Holding back a sigh, he opened the window and stepped aside to let him in, trying to decide what to say first.

He was debating between a "What the hell are you doing here?" or "I specifically told you _not_ to come here.” before the Super raised his hand and talked.

“When was the last time you slept?” He asked, looking at him closely.

Not even a "Hello, how are you?" before starting to enter the matter. It wasn’t necessary, they had already overcome that phase of their relationship for a long time. What's more, Clark didn't have to ask how he was doing, he already knew it, he knew it very well.

It had been him who had finished calling after the discussion in the cave with Tim and Jason because he knew that something happened to him only by his heartbeat. It's not like he could have hidden it from him, because not only would he have found out sooner or later, but because he already did, and he was his best friend, so he finished telling him everything. They talked too much, and the call lasted for hours, with both locked in their offices for more privacy and with Clark insisting on going to see him.

He said there was no need, but he had ignored it, as always.

“That’s not relevant.” He replied, frowning further.

To Clark, that was the fragrant confirmation that -indeed- he hadn’t slept for three days. In his defense, Bruce would say he was too busy thinking about other things to allow himself a little rest. What's more, he wouldn't even have done it if he tried.

Every time he closed his eyes he listened to Tim's choked sobs and his weak voice begging him to leave them alone.

Clark wasn't going to know that, but didn’t seem to like his answer at all, because he crossed his arms and looked at him the way he always did when he had no idea what to do with him.

For a moment, Bruce had the slight hope that Clark would let him go, but it was Kent. So, when he grabbed his arm and dragged him onto the couch in the office to make him sit down with him, he wasn't even surprised. He just rolled his eyes and reminded himself that trying to fight Superman for this was not worth it, because he already knew the result, he had tried too many times. So, he ended up sitting next to him on the sofa and sighing heavily.

“Sleep.” Clark said simply and shrugged. As if it were that easy.

“I don't think it works that way, Kent.” He replied with a snort.

Clark looked at him again disapprovingly a few seconds, then his annoyance softened, and his look turned into one of pure concern.

“Rest, please.” He asked softly. “I know you, and I know there have been rough days, but it wouldn’t be better like this.”

After a moment of silence, Bruce decided not to answer that and instead leaned on the sofa to look at the ceiling in silence, closing later his eyes and completely ignoring the tug on his chest that Clark's concern caused him.

That seemed to be an acceptable move for the Kryptonian, because then they were completely silent, together. Bruce could feel the warmth of the other's body, sitting too close. Also, how he tried not to move too much so as not to distract him or disturb his rest, which didn’t help much because he couldn’t rest by himself, but the effort was appreciated.

He didn't keep track of how long they were quiet and just being aware of each other's presence, but Bruce found himself breaking that peace after a few minutes without even hesitate.

“Why are you here?” He asked without changing his position.

He felt Clark stir in his seat and his bluish gaze fixed on him.

“I wanted to see how you were.” He replied directly. “Do I need something more to see you?”

Again, he remained silent, that tug on his chest appearing again. However, unlike a few minutes ago, this time he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him too, meeting his face closer to his than he had originally thought.

He didn't look away, neither did Clark. They just looked at each other intently and waited for the other to say something. A tension already known between them leaked into the room.

If someone had told Bruce years ago that Superman would be his most supportive person in his life, who he would trust the most, maybe he would have laughed, a lot. Now, he would have no choice but to agree and say thanks for it.

Because if it hadn't been for that call and those hours of conversation, things would have been much worse, and the situation would have only exploded after he had done something crazy. It was Clark who helped him see that it wasn’t necessary to carry the burdens of his mistakes alone, but that it was easier to do it together. It made it lighter. It was Clark who told him that even Superman made mistakes, everyone did, and the thing was learning to live with them and fix them after all, but don't let them dictate your life. And, above all, it was Clark who convinced him not to take hasty actions and try to clarify things with Tim and Jason without emotions clouding his judgment.

It was Clark, it was always Clark. The one who managed to make him reason, the one who broke each and every one of his barriers with ease, the one who gave him hope, the one who saw beyond the calculating and calm façade he showed. Clark, always Clark.

“My son was here yesterday.” The Super ended up saying in a whisper, they were close enough to hear it.

“I know.” Bruce answered.

He always knew when Jonathan showed up at the manor to visit Damian. This time he even thanked him, because he didn’t know the state of his younger son, but he did know that Superboy could cheer him up. As much as he broke Gotham's “no meta” rules and the limits set by his parents, he decided to let it be.

“And you were okay with that?” Clark asked, more curious than annoyed.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What do you think?”

His answer made that tension, known but unsolvable, grow even more. Clark swallowed hard and Bruce didn't look away.

The truth is that they would have had to be very blind not to have realized that their sons were in love for a long time and hopelessly they were going to end up together. After all, it was something that had been happening and developing in front of them since they made them team as children, and what they also had avoided talking at all cost.

If Bruce at this time wasn't so worried about what had happened with Tim and Jason and how to solve it, maybe he could stop to think about how unfair he and Clark were being not wanting to recognize the feelings that their sons had on the other.

They would like to; they would really like to. But admit that would openly lead to mention Conner's fixation with Timothy, which would lead to the conclusion of that, for some reason, always has existed a connection/fixing between the Supers and the Bats. And to admit this fixation would mean declaring that it really exists, along with that... Something, between them.

There was _something_. Something between Bruce and Clark which didn’t want to admit, speak, or recognize. They've been ignoring it for years and had always worked like this, they had no reason to bring it to light, nor act on it. However, recognizing the situation of their sons not only will make it much more real, if not that -in some way- impossible.

That doesn't make sense because it was already impossible anyway. Clark was married to Lois, Bruce was dating Selina, they have been best friends since the League was founded, and their children were going to end up together, so there was no way they could... What?

Do what? To say what?

There was nothing to do, nothing to say. It wouldn't do any good because it was too late. No matter how much they tried to ignore it, it was something that hung over their heads and the moment it arrived they had to impose their sons' happiness on theirs, because that was how it worked, that’s what it meant to be a dad.

Although maybe that's why they didn't want to admit it, maybe that's why they tried to postpone all that until they could no longer, because they knew that the moment their children spoke for themselves, the decision of both of them was made, and it was like closing a door definitively that they had never dared to cross, but whose existence knew.

But that wasn’t the important thing at the moment. The important thing was Tim, Jason, their relationship, making sure they were safe and secure, and waiting until Oracle managed to contact them in order to see them. But that was a matter of time, he just had to wait.

So, ready for it, Bruce turned away from Clark, snorted wearily, settled back on the couch, and closed his eyes to get some sleep after three days without rest.

And if Clark's hand held his in the process, was something between them and no one else.

~0.0~

When he woke up, he was alone.

The office was dark, it was already night, the window was closed, and Bruce was lying on the couch.

There was no sign of Clark, but before thinking about how he had taken advantage of the fact that he had fallen asleep to accommodate him and leave without saying anything, he focused on the light of the flashing notification from his phone that he had been waiting all day.

_"Don’t thank me. Say hi to Hood before the patrol.”_ Barbara's text said.

She had done it; she had granted his request and had been successful. Oracle had managed to locate the red team to take them to the Cave and sort things out. To have a conversation about it without surprises or threats, just leaving the cards on the table at once. There were situations and secrets in the family that could no longer be ignored more, and this was one of them.

Bruce didn’t have time to be surprised that it was precisely Jason who agreed to attend that appointment, because he realized that he should head there. It was time to prepare for the patrol and it was better not to make anyone wait this time. He was determined to make his position clear and protect his sons, as necessary.

He was halfway to the cave entrance when a loud sound made his world stop and a jolt of terror prick him.

**_Bang!_ **

****

He breathed for a second, and then, recognizing the sound as a shot, he went through the entrance and down into the cave as fast as possible. Everything in a pure ingrained instinct that he had acquired after so many years in the crusade against crime, which tightened his muscles and contracted his bones.

With his heart hammering hard and thousands of possibilities and explanations piercing his mind, when he arrived at the cave precisely the least expected received him.

The vision of Dick Grayson, gun in hand, with Jason Todd bleeding out on the floor, made him realize that everything had gone too far.

There was no longer a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how was it?
> 
> Do you know that meme that says "the world if dads went to theraphy"? Well, is literally the summary of this chapter. I'm gonna be honest, it's 6:26 am, I didn't sleep, I have to do homework and I'm dying, but I hope I did well in this chapter protraying Bruce and his reasons, because... He's not okay. But that would apply for all the batfam, so (?)
> 
> But yeah, this chapter was basically Bruce point of view of everything and a little explanation about his motivations and reasons of why he did what he did here. As you could deduce, this chapter is situated the day after the chapter 4, and three days after chapter 7! And for the Superbat..... I had no excuse, I just like them. Well, I had no explanation for the end of the chapter too, it's just the plot, so (?)
> 
> I don't know what more to say, just want to start the weekly update routine again, so thanks for reading and see you next week ~


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie's POV. It wasn’t easy, none of this. They made it sound easy but it wasn't. Just go there, meet them, talk, apologize, and then start to be a family again as if nothing happened. No, it was complicated, a lot. But they had to do it, even Damian, because it was something they truly needed, they couldn't do it anymore. She just hoped Tim and Jason could understand it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ~ How you doing?
> 
> Hope everyone's okay. Here's the weekly chapter, a little late than usual but hope it's enough. This time I don't think I have much to say, so enjoy Steph's POV and the bat-meeting.
> 
> Thank you ~

**_Now_ **

One... Two... One... Two...

Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out...

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Stephanie focused on her breathing carefully to stay calm as much as possible. It wasn’t difficult, but considering the situation, how emotional she was sometimes, and especially the news they had given her, she was trying not to be distracted and think too much so as not to disturb the cold calm in which she had finally managed to sink.

With her hands on the wheel and leaning forward, the blonde looked at nothing thoughtfully and yet controlled her breaths, not wanting to give in to her nervousness and anxiety.

She didn’t know how long she’d been in the car, quiet and gathering strength for herself, but it must have been long enough for everyone else to have already gathered, established more than one action plan, and were waiting impatiently for her.

They always blamed her for being late anyway, so it wasn't anything new. On the other hand, it had been a long time since she had visited the mansion, or even the cave. The missions with the Birds of Prey kept her busier and away from the focus of her dislike. At least this time she had a plausible excuse not to show up on time, and she really needed to take a moment to get used to the idea of what was about to happen.

Tim was alive. He was fine, and they knew his location.

That was the mantra that had been repeating in her mind ever since they had received Dick’s texts hours earlier. She hadn’t known how to feel in the beginning, she wasn’t sure of her current state either, just was in conflict. A feeling had begun to grow inside her, she couldn’t say if it was good or bad because too many feelings at once were arising and revolving in her being, but her sixth sense told her that something big was coming. Something big and significant was approaching them, and they were not going to avoid it precisely, everyone was going to face it directly without thinking about the consequences.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt it, the more scared she became, but the more willing she was to cross the line. Right now, for her everything is a mixture of great expectations, hopes, happiness and some terror.

From the start, she knew Dick would never lie about finding Tim and Jason, he couldn’t. It was Dick, of all of them he was the most desperate to find them, he would never give such news without proof or without making sure it was totally real and definitive, because neither he nor anyone else could bear to hope and later that expectations would be crushed. So, there was no doubt, she didn’t know how or where, but they had been found.

Sometimes you wait for something for a long time, maybe your whole life. An event, a person, anything. You dream about that specific moment and when it would really happen, and in your mind, you have imagined over and over what it will be like, what you will feel, and what will happen in detail. You fantasize about it over and over again and you hope, you wish, that it’s exactly what you expected, that it’s perfect, idyllic, you wait to feel how you imagined it, how you had longed for. For some it may be the day of their wedding, of their graduation, declaring to a person or, in her case, finding her missing ex-boyfriend along with his current lover with whom he escaped.

Obviously, she had thought about it a lot. What it would be like if they were found someday, what would happen, what would she do, what would she say. She would be happy about it, who doesn’t? Because after so long it was almost like a miracle. The hope they had been losing over the years would recover to make way for another stage where they could fix things.

But now, that moment had come, now it was really happening, and she felt the palms of her hands sweat, her shoulders tense, and fear, terror, mixing with that happiness that she had been waiting for so long.

Despite this, from the slight doubt that arose about what could happen from now on, Stephanie was 100% sure that the majority of the family wanted to go find the deserters, at any price, much more if its location was already known. It was totally understandable, she also wanted to do it. She missed them. It had been too long, and it wouldn’t surprise her that Bruce had already prepared an itinerary and a full set of equipment to carry out the rescue, or recovery, mission or whatever that might be considered. A visit to relatives surely not, since they would not receive them as such.

That was what made her doubt the most, what made her fight with herself. Since it didn't matter how much she wanted to see them, that factor was what she had to consider the most. Because they wanted to go wherever Tim and Jason were, it didn’t mean the tragic couple was going to appreciate it. They clearly left Gotham and the family for various reasons, which no one could oppose. They weren’t planning to come back sometime if that note was serious. Because of the way they had completely vanished, and they had no clue from them, did. And that they wanted to see them again didn’t mean that it was reciprocal, much less that _they deserved to do it_.

Because they didn’t, not even her.

Maybe that was what hurt the most, all of them. The reason why they had crumbled and now needed to chase the missing ones. It was very easy to point out Bruce and Dick -especially Dick- as the culprits for what happened, those responsible for the disaster. But if they stopped to think, if they recapitulated, it wasn’t just the two of them. No.

The debacle of their secret relationship was revealed, and the subsequent accident was the last straw, but the glass had been filled little by little for a long time, perhaps too long. And everyone, _everyone_ , had been contributors on it.

Including her.

The family failed both of them, more than once, until a point of no return was reached. And Stephanie knows she failed Tim. A lot.

He wasn’t aware of the importance he had in her life, how much she cared for him, the essential pillar he became for her. Maybe because she failed to communicate it, or because he never considered himself important enough to anyone.

Their relationship was one of the best things she could have had in her young teenage years, no matter how bad it ended, anyone could affirm it. With a villain father in prison, a desolate mother believing all his lies, and pregnant at 16 because of a freak, Timothy was the best thing that could have happened to her, even if they met behind a mask and without knowing the other’s real name.

The boy gave it all for her, supported her in her decisions, helped her in ways she didn’t think he could, and urged her to be part of something she never imagined. That was what Tim always did anyway, giving himself completely to someone without waiting too much in return, without stopping to think about his own health and safety.

Maybe that too was one of the biggest reasons why she failed him, or because she was not the indicated for him. After all, she came to see Timothy’s sacrifice and perseverance as a small flaw, something that should be changed for his own good. She considered that his unabashed kindness, his extreme responsibility in the field, and his ability to belittle himself at the expense of others was something that always ended up turning against him, hurting him. If she thought about it, that was not what Tim needed despite everything, however much her intentions being with him were others. Tim didn’t need someone to limit him or judge him by his decisions, to say “don’t do this” even if it was to help him. No, Tim needed someone to challenge him, to urge him to be more careful, to help him watch his steps and to control that need to help at all costs, someone who told him “we will do it together, but with care.”

Over time, it became clear that she couldn’t be that person. After all, she allowed things to get to this point. Tim was ready to give her the world, and she faked her death; Tim slowly drowned in his pain after losing her, and everyone else in his life, and she belittled and invalidated that pain; They talked and were forgiven for everything that happened later, but it was never the same again; She tried to be a good friend, not without feeling that everything was extremely complicated between them; his relationship with Jason was discovered, and she couldn’t even make it in time to intervene.

Even today, she still didn’t want to acknowledge the pain her fake death had caused the family. Why would she? She was Stephanie after all, the only Robin that didn’t matter, why would her death hurt anyone? Who would remember her anyway? She knows than that, that self-esteem problem, was what led her to ignore Tim’s anguish on the matter, which made them break-up. That, and as much as she loved Tim, she was still not the one indicated for him. No, the right one was a guy who was much taller, who tried to kill him, and with who he ran away from the city riding into the sunset like a teen romance novel.

She failed him as his girlfriend, but as a friend she was even worse, especially because of how she dealt with what happened six years ago.

She already knew that there was someone in his life, she noticed, it wasn’t very difficult to deduce that there had been someone for a while. After all, she knew him too well, and it didn’t matter that things weren’t the same between them, she was still looking after that sacrificed little bastard. And after seeing him barely sleep, eat, or even be himself since the deaths of most of his loved ones, Tim suddenly had food in his fridge, notes taped around his apartment to remind him to take care of himself, and timely messages at mealtime. He also seemed more rested, didn’t take solo patrols, no risky missions, and little by little the Tim she met began to peek carefully, cautiously, as if he were afraid of being hurt again, but trusting that there was someone behind him supporting him.

She never thought that person could have been Jason Todd, although after it was revealed, she realized it made a lot of sense. Jason could challenge, support, and guide Tim in ways she couldn’t, and probably where she saw flaws, Jason saw something good. Both had been through a lot, had a natural connection with each other, had a good rapport, and where one failed, the other made up for it. She also knew very well the crush Tim had since child with the second Robin, it wasn’t very difficult to guess.

The only bad thing was their past. Too rough, too dark. It was what made everyone doubt, and rightly so. She was not an exception, because she also had to experience that disaster. She had to see Tim in bed and unconscious after the beating in Titan’s tower witness his wounds from the multiple attacks afterwards, and above all, deal with sadness and disappointment of the boy realizing that his Robin, the young whose memory he had wanted to honor, hated him and planned his death.

It wasn’t pretty at all. Those were very hard times that still plagued and worried everyone deep down. So, in part, she understood Bruce and Dick’s reasoning when it came to doubting, wanting to understand when everything had changed, why, how. However, unlike that, she could guess great part of those things tying up dots, instinctively, and accepted that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea not so nefarious as they thought.

Tim had improved at least a little. In the end, nor did she see him very often -nobody did- but he had. And Jason had come a long way since his detoxification with the Outlaws. Nor could she fully trust him, nor be on his side just because he would have had a positive impact on Tim, but it was true that he no longer seemed as out of control as when he got to Gotham, the murders had descended, and his work at the Bowery gives its fruits, improving people’s lives, _their people_ , in a way Batman couldn’t due because of strict moral limitations.

Either way, no matter how neutral she might have been at the time, or how inclined she would have been to defend them and Tim’s happiness. She didn’t arrive on time, as always.

She wasn’t the night that everything came to light, neither the following ones. She was compromised in a covert mission for the Birds of Prey, against a prostitution cartel. She also didn’t know what had happened even when days after Dick called her to know if she had news of Tim, apparently unreachable. When she wanted to do something and could slip out of her covert identity for a moment, Jason had received a shot and Tim didn’t want to talk to anybody. He was so angry that he had turned into an ice floe, without mercy or compassion, something that without doubt he inherited from his mother. Soon after, before anyone could do anything, they were gone, and nobody knew more about them.

She remembers going down to the cave that day to see how Jason was doing and if Tim had calmed down enough to deal with at least her.

All she found was that fucking note with their uniforms.

Since then, she had been wondering: Could she have done more? Could she have avoided it?

She was sure that was what everyone was wondering. It was too much. Too many mistakes, too many options, too many insecurities. She knows she could have done more, she could have helped more, she could have been a better friend, a better vigilante, better everything. But would it have been enough? Would she have avoided their departure? The suffering of the family?

All of them had problems, some more rooted and serious than others. Whether they wanted to or not, they had had as much impact then as the years that followed, and they had to live with it.

But today everything had changed. Nothing was the same. There was an opportunity, terrifying and unknown, but there was, and God knew she wasn’t going to waste it.

The past and what could have changed was a mystery that all had been fighting to overcome or directly to forget. But right now, today, they could make a real change, offer a real solution, make up for their mistakes definitely. And the hatred or rejection glance that Tim and Jason might give them may have been painful at first, yes, but it shouldn’t stop them from fixing what they broke.

So, Stephanie sighed one last time, buried within herself her doubts, and came out of the car willing to solve this once and for all.

~0.0~

She found Alfred and Barbara in the kitchen, speaking softly while the butler cooked in excess.

She knew he did that when he was particularly stressed, looking for a way to distract himself, and Steph didn’t even think about it when she approached him and hugged him tightly, regretting that the man everyone considered their grandfather had to deal with the consequences of their actions. Furthermore, she was sure Barbara hadn’t arrived at the manor when she and Cass did, if not later, what indicated that she had spent more time than necessary in the car.

By the time she had finished greeting the redhead and checking her mood, the butler had finished his cooking and kindly asked (ordered) them to help him load the breakfast to the food cart they owned for those occasions. Those in which no one had had an appropriate food in Alfred’s eyes, and he was forced to carry the food directly to the cave, because otherwise they wouldn’t eat.

Soon, they headed for the elevator that led to the cave. As they did so, Steph had to suppress her impatience and her desire to know all the details of what had brought her here so as not to ask Barbara directly.

But when they arrived, those cravings for knowing dissipated a little when realizing the enormous tension that reigned in the cave.

To be fair, the place had always had that gloomy, sullen air. Steph had also been very reluctant to step on it since what happened, of course, and she couldn’t help feeling that nervousness and revulsion in her stomach, going down the stairs and seeing the place where the people who she had come to hate the most after their father were. Clearly, this revulsion had calmed down a bit over time, but it hadn't disappeared, and she doubted it would until they had fully resolved things.

Bruce, technically her boss, was sitting in front of the Batcomputer, still, in silence and concentrating on the images on the screen. Cass, her beloved Cassandra, seemed concerned and stood beside him, leaning against the counter of the machine and with a thoughtful expression too, head down. The sulky, tense shadow she managed to glimpse around the area of the training mats was Damian, although she doubted, he would have used them if he were still hurt by what had happened in Gamorra. And the figure of Dick, easily the one she most repudiated at the moment, could be seen standing in front of the glass counters where they kept Red Hood and Red Robin suits, staring at them.

Part of her wanted to scream, other to laugh. She didn’t decide, but it was clear that in her fantasies about this day she didn’t imagine this would be the atmosphere in the cave. She thought everything would be frantic, nervous, and exalted, but in a good way, because it was good news, right? She didn’t think everything would be silent, violent, and distressing how it was, what made the bad feeling grow so much more.

Again, she wanted to ask, she wanted to know what was wrong, why this reaction, should she worry? Tim and Jason weren’t alive or well? She almost found herself making a joke about how serious everyone could be, but it was not the time, not to mention that she had a knot in her throat that she thought would choke her if the meeting didn’t start and she get answers immediately.

By the time they reached the batcomputer’s side, Bruce was up and everyone had slowly gathered in the place, still in silence and restless.

Alfred said something, probably about having breakfast and taking care, wanting to dispel the obvious tension among all. But Steph couldn’t hear him, for a moment she couldn’t hear anything. She knew they were talking around her, saying something, she heard their voices but couldn't _hear_ them, she was too busy looking at the photos on the screen, Tim and Jason’s in Florida. Couldn’t help to admire how much they had changed, how happy they seemed, how Jason looked taller and Tim younger, the pretty, quiet town they seemed to be in. She felt her eyes moisten, her words choke and a tiny feeling of longing for that smile that the smaller showed in the photo, knowing that years ago he had addressed it without hesitation to her, and she managed to destroy it.

It was when Barbara started talking, firm and determined, that her attention returned to the group and the meeting that seemed to have started.

“Well. There is no doubt why we are all here, right?” The redhead asked, placing her glasses, in that calm and professional tone in which they were used to listening to her. Babs could be perfectly the one who knew better to stay calm in these cases and it was almost instinctive to pay attention to her.

“Tt.” Damian complained aside, visibly disgusted.

She and Babs looked at the boy fixedly after that, one analytical, the other with curiosity. The others didn’t move, what’s more, the tension grew. For Stephanie, that was even weirder, how the youngest looked agitated, irritated, his arms crossed tightly, and his brow furrowed more than ever, an ugly bruise was beginning to decorate his face. She couldn’t say if that was an injury from his incident in Gamorra or something later, but he seemed very upset right now and that was the last thing the blonde had expected.

If there was someone here that should be genuinely happy that they found the red team, it should be Damian. At least that had deduced from the way the young man had remained so hurt and resentful with everyone during these years. This should be good news for him, right?

But she wasn’t the best detective in the family anyway, so now she couldn’t be sure.

“I am aware of what has happened.” Barbara announced, still looking at Damian and in the same professional tone as before.

She had no idea what had happened. But surprisingly Damian didn’t say anything to that statement. He just snorted and waved even more in his silent fury, deep in his bad mood and looking at them poisonously. Again, he didn’t vary much from the occasional glances he normally gave them when they saw him every full moon, so Steph didn't want to think that whatever they were talking about was important. But clearly it was, given the others look, the tension became oppressive and irascible, and that was just too much for a little fight. Was enough too for Babs to mention it and keep it in mind and... She was tired of not knowing anything. So tired.

Oracle had to realize how impatient and lost she felt, as she took the reins again and took out his tablet to start.

“I’ll start with a small summary, if that’s ok.” She said turning to Bruce to make sure.

He, firm as a soldier, nodded and was then when Oracle were on the batcomputer’s screen and started.

“Okay, as we all know, our tragic lovers disappeared without a trace exactly six years and a few days ago. No proof, no trace to follow.” She began to explain while she tapped on the tablet. “Now we have found out that they got it thanks to the help of Jonathan Kent and Damian.”

Stephanie opened her eyes surprised and looked at Damian uncertainly. She almost froze. It went unnoticed how Babs looked briefly at the minor and Dick grunted silently too. The tension seemed to grow even more with that statement, but the person involved didn’t even deny it, indeed, he just challenged them with his eyes and tilted his chin up with pride in that characteristic way of his.

The blonde felt like she might throw up, just from the shock of that statement. Now the disgust he displayed right now made sense, and the way he had distanced himself from everyone as well.

Well, what the fuck.

The little ones, Jon, and Damian weren’t as innocent as they thought.

“Thanks to the contacts of Talia Al Ghul Damian provided and meta or aliens gadches that Jon had and we have not yet been able to determine, Tim and Jason managed to stay off the radar until…” She returned to operating the Tablet and the images of the explosion in Zodome were displayed on the huge screen. “Two days ago. When the terrorist group that Damian was chasing tried to hack a supercomputer belonging to the league which was hidden in the city center. This self-destructed and caused the explosion.”

She shuddered slightly because of the videos of the incident that were shown, along with the surprise of the statements and the veiled bewilderment that chilled her emotions. Destroyed houses, severe fires, wounded people begging for help and chaos ravaging the city could be seen in the videos and photos. Superboy appeared in some of them helping to control the disaster and save the victims.

“When the computer was destroyed, I managed to access numerous files from the dark net that the league kept active. Among them, a sophisticated facial recognition program, designed to hide all traces of those who use it. All the images that the program registered were stored within their servers and made invisible anybody in any media.” Barbara sighed and adjusted her glasses, frustrated. “It’s good, and effective if it’s used and configured correctly. It was when I decided to disable it that all original images leaked and with them all of Tim and Jason for these past six years.”

The videos about Zodome disappeared and were replaced by various photos captured by cameras at Gotham International Airport. In all, four known figures appeared, sliding around the place, and distilling a feeling of insecurity and stress with their expressions and postures on their bodies. Tim and Jason were bringing with them travel bags, surely with what they needed to escape. Jon and Damian, much younger, didn’t carry more than a serious expression on their faces.

Again, the eyes focused on Damian, who was now looking angrily at Barbara for having revealed those photos.

“You accompanied them to the airport?” Dick snapped before anyone, also angry. “Really?”

She, even with the surprise of the somewhat recent revelation, didn’t even know what to say. It was even ridiculous.

“Someone had to do it.” Damian replied sarcastically. “They were going to leave for a while.”

The murderess look than Bruce directed to his son was memorable, and she could feel Cass preparing beside her to intervene if Dick lost his temper and lunged at Damian with the same force, because the first Robin was boiling with a monumental rage. She almost snorts loudly at the boy’s response, surprised, almost proud. He certainly had not lost his ability to knock someone down with words, especially when angry, today he comes with everything apparently.

A raised eyebrow from Barbara was enough for everything to cease and the redhead continued, changing the incriminating images to another set of photos spread around a world map, with the trajectory that the red team had done clearly marked using lines and a chronology.

“After a general analysis of everything that was leaked, I have managed to determine the route they followed. During the first year they left Gotham to go for a short time to Copenhagen, then to Berlin, Paris, Lisbon, Madrid, and Kyoto. They finally settled in Seoul for a few months. However, in the second year they traveled to Egypt for a few days and suddenly moved definitely to Florida. They haven’t moved out since then.” The redhead sighed, having pointed out all the destinations and the images that accompanied them as evidence. Some were more endearing than others, she had to add.

Despite the mixture of nerves she felt, Stephanie had to suppress a smile at a photo of Tim making friends with the deer residents of the Nara Park in Japan, who surrounded him and ate from his hand with ease. While these fuckers could be veritable beasts, Tim always had a Disney princess aura capable of calming and dazzling rabid animals and violent vigilantes, like Jason, for example. Which precisely were in the same photo from behind, running away from another group of deer quite angry.

Barbara continued, remembering her fears again, especially this time when she spoke in a much more serious tone than the previous one.

“The town is small, there seems to be no threat or any surveillance, and from what I've seen it’s a quiet community, with the occasional alligator hanging around the streets from time to time. But I would like to say something.” She announced looking at them severely. “I am agreeing with Damian when it comes to saying that this is not the best idea, I consider that it’s not the course of action that should be taken. But I know the options are tight, and it will happen anyway, am I wrong?”

Damian seemed even proud of her words, a little relieved that someone was on his side, even if it was only for a second. Stephanie would have wondered why Damian didn’t want to go looking for Tim and Jason, but tying up the dots, the effort that surely the younger had put in helping them escape and keeping quiet all of these years gave a clear answer.

Although from her perspective, as much as Damian refused and would have helped them to run away, he was still one of the most that needed to see them again.

“No.” Bruce replied firmly, making it clear that no matter who opposed it or what reasons they had, he was willing to go all the way.

“I thought so.” She answered with a nod. “In that case, let me tell you: You are not going to get any more help from me. I think I’ve done enough, and I owed it to them.”

A small silence grown between them all, looking at Barbara with veiled surprise. It was clear to whom she owed that small favor of not participating in this anymore, and Stephanie admired her friend’s decision, but at the same time confused her. Oracle had found them and determined the location, it didn’t hurt any if she retired now, because they already had everything they needed. It was like retiring halfway through a football match after having scored all the goals.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who thought that.

“You’re a hypocrite.” Damian said directly.

Babs sighed and straightened to look directly at him, determined.

“Not all is black and white, Damian. You, more than anyone, should know this.” She replied.

“What I know is that you reveal everything and then you retire to let them ruin it.” He exclaimed, pointing to Dick and Bruce specifically. “If you really owe them a favor, you would have kept quiet.”

“Not _everything_.” She exhaled, squinting and clenching her fists. “I know why it’s hard for you to see it, but this is something that must happen Damian, in a way that we like it or not”

“That’s bullshit!”

Dick huffed, Cass observed in silence and analyzing, and Bruce shook his head. Stephanie felt a bitter and conflicted sensation for that discussion. Something told her that Barbara was not saying everything, that she had obviously hiding some information, and as much as she agreed with Damian that the ways were not correct, she also knew that the options were very limited, so she allowed what they were going to do.

“Damian, we’ve already talked about it.” Said Bruce still firm.

“We did?” He asked sarcastically. “When? After the punch?”

That said it pointing out clearly to Dick, which in return growled again and he was on guard.

“Listen, I don’t want to continue discussing this. We’ll go to Florida, whether that’s okay with you or not.” Said the older Robin.

“They. Don’t. Want. To. See. You.” He pointed out to the other angrily. “If you go there, you will make it worse.”

“It’s the only option we have, and you are the only one here who is against it, but we already know why.”

“Clearly because I'm the only one with functional neurons.”

“Or maybe because unlike you and Jon, not all of us could happily say goodbye to them at the airport after giving all the facilities to run away.”

Stephanie sighed to that jibe, also going down her head at the guilt she felt. It wasn’t hard to see how deeply betrayed Dick felt about Damian’s involvement in the disappearance of those two, and she couldn’t imagine the problem she’d gotten rid of by staying in the car instead of going down to the cave to have witnessed how everything exploded. And while it was understandable for the most part, not only for the fact that Damian had helped them, if not kept quiet the whole time despite seeing the family fall apart, the blonde wanted to hit the other on the head for not realizing how Damian was affected by this.

Maybe Damian’s biggest reason for refusing the trip to Florida was his loyalty to Tim and Jason, to their escape. He and Jon had put so much faith in them that they had prioritized it on top of the others and of themselves. Their prolonged silence implied for them an additional weight on their shoulders, one that destroyed their relationships with their relatives and had to affect them in the deepest, little by little, more and more with each passing year. She imagined that Damian’s motives for doing so were not only because he was on the other two’s side during the “big fight”, but for the same reasons that Barbara had to withdraw now: he owed them. Damian had been mean with Tim and Jason -especially with Tim- in the past, and this, without a doubt, was his way of making amends with them, of feeling that he deserved their forgiveness and affection. The disappearance was a proof of that forgiveness, of that love for his brothers.

If everything falls apart now, if he let them the undone it with a simple plane ride, it would be a waste of all his effort and pain.

Because Damian had _suffered_. He had done it. Anyone would have been very blind not to have seen it. And that was probably what destroyed him the most inside. Tim and Jason’s absence had been like a huge wound in his chest, open and bleeding, that devoured and consumed him. Surely that was not what he expected when it came to helping them to leave, but it happened. He discovered that he hardly could look his father in the eye, and when Dick was the brother he valued and loved most, now he couldn’t bear to see him because of what he did. Now, as much as Damian refused to smash his efforts to hide his brothers, the need to see them was something that also harbored in his deepest self, because time and pain couldn’t be ignored.

The contradiction between what Damian should do and what he _wanted to do,_ had to be bigger in him than in any of them. Stephanie could sympathize with it, and she knew the solution was clear.

“Damian.” She called him, speaking for the first time since she entered the cave. “Let’s go to Florida. Everyone. We need it.”

They did. They really did.

The family had been ripped to shreds for too long, she hardly knew anything about the others if it wasn’t for Cass trying to be a contact from time to time.

But they couldn’t go on like this. They were incomplete, hurt, broken, imperfect. Their problems and the past haunted them and they were unable to solve it because the gaps that Tim and Jason had left behind were too large. If they wanted to fix things, go back to being a family, recover and come to an agreement with themselves, they had to speak it face to face, apologize appropriately and clear things up with those involved. The burden on their shoulders had to go to keep going, and to do it, going to Florida, seeing them even if it was one last time, was essential.

“If you let me…” Alfred’s voice, still next to the food cart and focused on the conversation from the first second, caught everyone’s attention. “I agree that Master Timothy and Master Jason may feel threatened by your sudden appearance in their new home. However, I agree with Miss Stephanie that it’s something that _everyone_ needs to do, maybe even they too. Six years is too long for the family to remain angry and in conflict, to fix things it is necessary to see someone person, don’t you think?”

Silence dominated them for a few seconds, all of them thoughtful and calculating. Alfred’s word were something superior to everyone, something that was respected even above Bruce himself, and that he gave his opinion and approval on the subject, was like receiving the green light from the president himself. Not to mention the meaning he gave them and the reason he had.

Stephanie was grateful to the butler for putting into words what she felt and knew, and it didn’t escape her the fact that he announced that everyone should do it, including Damian, without discussion. Apparently. this didn’t escape him either because the grimace that crossed his face was not encouraging.

“If I go, Jonathan too.” He announced in reproach. For a moment it seemed that he was 14 years old again, praying that his best friend was with him at all times.

“No way.” Dick refused instantly.

“That’s not possible, Damian.” Bruce said.

His green eyes flashed with fury again, the youngest in the family clenched his fists tightly and seemed about to explode again before Barbara interrupted him again.

“I know why you think he should be present Damian, that's understandable. But this should remain in the family for now.” Barbara announced. “The first approaches must be with care; we cannot take risks.”

Damian seemed to want to contradict her, to say more, to argue why his boyfriend should be there with him if they forced him to present the fall of all the lies they had kept, but Babs talked again to them seriously.

“Go as civilians, it can turn out well. If you see them, not force them to come back, just speak, without threats or reproaches, neither mission related things. Just catch up.”

Okay… Like a normal family if they knew how to act as one.

Stephanie sighed and shook her head. She could glimpse Dick nodding, Bruce checking the location of the photos again, Damian staring at the ground angrily and Cass in full silence.

It wasn’t easy, none of this. Barbara and Alfred made it sound easy. Just go there, meet them, talk, apologize, and then go to dinner at a family restaurant near the beach as if nothing had happened.

But it was complicated. Much. Still they had to, because it was the moment and they could no longer avoid it or stay that way any longer.

Plus, worthwhile things are never easy, are they?

She just hoped Tim and Jason could understand it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how it was?
> 
> I know I messed things up a little with the last chapter, I wasn't in a good mood when I did it honestly, and this maybe is a little boring? I'm not sure, but now I'm better and I like how I wrote it, but I know you guys want something more. Anyways, there's always had to be these types of chapters in everything, low chapters when explanations and all that. At least now there's some things clear and is definitive: they're going to chase down Tim and Jason. I think the good part comes in two chapters or so, so stay tuned! On the other hand, I like Stephanie, but I'm still trying to decide how to portray her, it's weird. I tried (?) Next week, or when I could because of the final assigments, you will have a little flashback with Jon's POV!
> 
> I think that's everything, it's 7 a.m, quarantine messed up my sleep schedule and hope you liked this chapter! Thank you all for your kudos, comments and just for reading it, you make me so happy, if you want something I'm @heartless-error in tumblr.
> 
> See you ~


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's POV. Gotham people were rough and rude, but also kind and patient. Just like the city, they were shaped by darkness and courage. They protected what they loved and who they loved with ferocity and strength, without restraints. Damian wasn't purely from Gotham, but was protected in its way, and Jason Todd not only made him see that, but made sure Jon would love his little brother the same way. The Gotham way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! 
> 
> First, I'm so sorry for the late update, oh my god, I know it had been two large weeks but I had my finals, and I was dying to survive the semester , it's been a rough year and I needed to focus. Now, I still have essays to finish but I could make time to write this, yeah ~   
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been giving kudos and subscribing and everything, it gave me strength to keep trying and to write this, so I hope you like it! This time it's a wholesome chapter I think, just before the storm breaks (?)
> 
> Enjoy ~

**_Seven years ago_ **

****

Gotham had a certain… charm.

A unique and special one that characterized it and it was quite difficult to discern, much more openly recognize it. However, once you looked beyond the high crime and corruption rates, the alarming number of villains or rogues in disguises that continually threaten people's lives, and that unstable climate that sometimes gave rise to clouds and fog that gave the city a gloomy and macabre appearance, you could realize the hidden beauty that the site harbored.

It wasn’t found in dirty alleyways that smelled bad and were home to stray cats or rats, nor in parks conveniently unguarded by nights, or in the ports where the toxic waste was dumped, not even in the gargoyles located on the heights that seemed to act as unbreakable guardians of the city.

No. It was in the people.

Gotham’s people were tough, sullen, and tenacious, just like the city itself. They had been born into it, and the place had forcefully taught them to be resistant and obstinate to live under its darkness and harshness. The insight and perseverance they possessed was proof of their determination and effort, one that could only be obtained when you lived and loved a place like this.

Still, despite such rudeness on their part, the vast majority possessed within themselves a kindness and a kind heart that not only survived in the darkness of the city but adapted to it with everything it could. Many sought to do good in their own way regardless of what it involved, see vigilantes or others in the simplest and most imperceptible way, some kept smiling despite everything, and all of them stayed on their feet despite the fact that the place was cruel to its own people. It was difficult to explain, sometimes even to see, but it was as if the city itself was aware of its own danger and forced its citizens to adapt to it for their own good. In this way, the love-hate that characterized the place was beautiful in its own way, although somewhat twisted.

Gotham could be dark and cruel, but also kind and patient. The insane madness of some contrasted with the strong will of others, and much as everything fell apart, they always did their best to get up and move on. Dark, yes, but also strong, determined, and unwavering.

After living in Metropolis for a few years, Jonathan was very used to hearing not very pleasant things from the rival city. However, Superboy had patrolled among it enough not only to appreciate the strength it possessed, but to realize that antipathy that the people of Metropolis criticized, was nothing more than a stealth and kindness covered of prudence and a very usual aversion on the part of the gothamites. Maybe if he thought about it, there might have been real antipathy of many after the Gotham Knights lost to the Metropolis Meteors in the final game, but that was far from the principal issue.

Now, despite Jon still having a hard time making out the difference between that inherent caution they had acquired after living on the same streets as the Joker or plain antipathy, he was quietly observing the city while he waited for his patrol partner to arrive.

The lights that lit up Gotham that night was pretty decent, it didn't look as dark as usual and the humid and worrying smell of the place was not so intense this time. Jonathan was on the lookout for any alarming or troubling sounds reaching his ears as he swung his legs in the void, sitting on the edge of one of the rooftops that had become a meeting point when patrolling with Robin.

He might as well have gone straight to find him at the cave, or at the manor, but Damian had been involved in another case and asked him to wait for him.

So there he was, sitting there, waiting, trying not to break Batman rules too much by being there unsupervised, and still pondering on that admirable need so fierce and innate that the pure gothamites felt to protect their city, when they heard him arrive.

Damian was not purely from Gotham; it was a fact. Jon had realized that his attitude and personality were quite similar to the city itself, since his friend was tough, direct, but kind too, cautious in his progress, but patient in his own way. However, he had not been born there, had been raised in a more hostile and crueler environment, and no matter how long he had been living there and learning from his family. Although his effort, will, and affinity had brought him closer to being a gothamite, he was not completely one. That was not bad, far from it, Jon didn’t consider himself from Metropolis entirely, would be too much. But if he had to put some perfect example on who belonged to Gotham to the core and it showed, it was definitely Jason Todd, Red Hood.

Who had gone straight to the roof he was on and, after landing behind him, was approaching him at a safe pace, without hesitation.

Jon liked Damian. How could he not? He was cool, amazing in many ways, he was even proud to call him friend. Really, he _liked_ him, he even dared to say that he _loved_ him, in that special, sincere, and vehement way that only a best friend could do… Supposedly.

The thing is, sometimes his family, the bats, were too indecipherable even for him.

Red Hood was a complicated case, sure not just for himself. And not precisely because the elder would have done something to him or behaved badly with him, well, quite the contrary. He liked him, maybe too much, or more than he seemed allowed.

Red Hood and the Outlaws always seemed to be a separate case for many in the hero community, mostly because of the uncomfortable tensions or conflicts that old family or friendship relationships had supposed about their members. But Jon didn’t know much either, he didn’t have to do it because it wasn’t his business, and most of the conflicts that took place, he didn’t witness, since he was neither old enough to do it nor he wasn’t even born, therefore, it was not his problem or the place to get into. Also, he was twelve years old, neither could comment on anything. All he knew about Jason before met him or talked to him was that he died, he came back, he wasn’t on good terms with much of the batfamily, and for some reason Kon had a very strong resentment towards him.

But for his part, he couldn’t dislike him. Most of the time he ran into Red Hood it was on a mission, when a disaster was too big to deny the Outlaws’ help, or when he appeared during his patrol with Robin to bother for a while and then leave, sometimes even accompanied by Red Robin. The man always exuded that same dangerous but controlled aura that shouted “Gotham” everywhere and had always felt when he stepped on the place the first few times he showed up there on patrol with Robin. But in turn, he had never been a danger or a threat, and beyond treating him with playful irony, he hadn’t done nothing.

At the same time, Damian trusted him, Tim too. With the passing years, he had noticed how everyone had gotten closer and how their interactions were less scathing and softer, though he couldn’t say the same for the other bats. But from what he had seen and understood, Tim worked more with Jason than anyone currently in Gotham, and if there was one thing that had been made clear to him from all the stories he had heard, it was that Tim’s judgment -as unique and strange as it seemed- it was always pretty right. As for Damian, he trusted him more than anyone in the world, and he knew he saw the red team frequently. He almost always ended up in quite a good mood and Jon understood what it was like to get along with an older brother, also how much it had cost his friend to get to that point with them, so he was very proud and happy for the three of them, although he didn’t understand how fighting with his fists over the last slice of pizza could be described as brotherly affection, but who was he to question how bats showed love?

The case is that as a result of everything else, he decided to ignore his father’s anxiety (again), Batman’s paranoia, and Kon’s jealousy (Yes Conner, I know you’re jealous even if you don’t want to admit it), to trust that Red Hood was not as bad as they had made him think.

Indeed, he wasn’t, he isn’t, he hadn’t failed him so far, and he doubted he would. Like a good gothamite and Damian’s older brother, at first glance Jason was harsh, ironic and somewhat dangerous, but he had a soft spot for children that made him treat them better than to humanity in general, and Jon was the best friend of his little brother, whom he protected when there was some imminent danger. He also worked with Tim and was sure that the third Robin had told him about his tutoring for school, so he supposed there was no way the man had anything against him to start and vice versa.

So, Jonathan didn’t care much about the concern of others about his short encounters with the guy in the red helmet or the strange friendship he had with him, except when they pointed it out as an act motivated by his “innocence”. He was twelve years old, yes, but he believed that he had lived through enough things not to be so naive as everyone wanted to assume.

Also, how could he say no to free food?

“Hey. Superbrat.” Jason snapped as he reached him, swinging the bag of Chinese food in the process. They both knew he had heard him come from far away.

“Hi Jason.” He greeted back and turning to give him a slight smile.

“Tsk. Names in the field.” He replied with exasperation, although he didn’t even seem really upset, his tone lacked angry and seemed more affectionate than anything else.

“Sorry.” He answered with fun, all bats always responded the same. “Hi Hood.”

The other seemed more satisfied with his other attempt, bet he might been smiling, but there wasn’t a way to be sure. Instead of questioning it, he simply looked as the older got closer to him, put the bag of takeaway between them and sat on the roof ledge as well.

“Hi kid.” He greeted him again. “What are you doing here alone? Does the Big-Bat let you wander around the city as freely as you want now?”

Jon almost rolled his eyes wearily. Batman was still somewhat strict about his “no metas in my city” rule despite how effective his association with Damian had proven to be. He had permission to be there, as long as he was accompanied by Robin or another bat. It was ridiculous.

“No.” He denied it. “I’m waiting for Robin.”

“That already makes more sense.” Hood nodded settling where he had sat and taking out a pack of cigarettes. “Where’s he doing?”

“He’s on other business, he told me to meet him here.”

“And he leaves you here alone and waiting?" He exclaimed wryly as he also took a lighter. “What a bad way to treat a date.”

Jon could have answered or continued with what he _knew_ it was a joke, but his brain didn’t seem to register it on time and finished choking on a babble nervous as he felt his face begin to burn with embarrassment.

He knew Jason was joking, of course he was, most of what that man was saying out of his mouth were taunts, sarcasm and inappropriate jokes that shouldn’t be taken seriously most of the time, more about them, who were younger than him. Hood really liked to tease Dami and him, bite and bother them in that unbearable way that only an older brother or a cool uncle could do. But hearing him hint that he could be Damian’s date, that he and Damian could have a date, that Damian could ask him for a _date_... imagining it made his heart jump and his breathing inevitably catch.

It was weird, he didn’t get it -or didn’t want to- and Jay was joking, of course he didn’t think he and Damian could be... like that. They were just best friends. Yes. Best friends didn’t have dates, nor did imagine or expect a future with each other. No. That was weird. And they didn’t give that image to others, did they?

He wanted to think no, but Jon was flushed to the ears by his best friend and now Red Hood was looking directly at him without saying a word at his reaction. Which was quite disconcerting, because the helmet made it impossible to discern any emotion or expression that the man might be doing, and for a moment Superboy felt what some villains or rogues in Gotham might feel before being crushed by Red Hood’s fury: an uncertainty fear by not being able to know what the hell he might be thinking.

“I-I don’t think it will take him long.” He finished babbling nervously to try to hide his nervous. “He could arrive at any time…”

Jon cleared his throat and looked up at the city lights again as he bit his lower lip, he didn’t want to have to face Red Hood and he still felt the shame bubbling up inside him, threatening to blush his face again. It was too late to pretend how weird his reaction had been, but he hoped Jason wanted to let that moment pass as well as he did. Because he didn’t know what he would do if he started joking about it now.

Fortunately, the eldest didn’t seem to want to comment on it, and he did him a huge favor by remaining silent. What’s more, he heard clearly how he took off his helmet to put it aside and lit a cigarette to start smoking silently.

They remained silent for a good time, listening to the movement and the nightlife of the city below them and with the wind lightly caressing them from time to time. Jon gradually calmed down with the vision of the lights, and Jason finished a cigarette and then lit another. Once he looked calmer and able to pretend he hadn’t been exposed in front of his best friend’s older brother, Jon realized how he should be surprised by the way in which precisely of all people, he seemed able to relax and fall into comfortable silence with the Red Hood, realizing that it hadn’t been difficult at first, either.

Jason treated him like a kid, yeah, but he never assumed he was dumb, innocent, or inexperienced like others did. He respected what he said sometimes and kept patient if he failed. He joked with him and bothered him, but always with a certain respect and knowing the limits, like at that moment, for example. And most importantly, he never demanded anything or showed unrealistic expectations of him, which many did without realizing. With Jason he wasn’t the “son of Superman”, or “the talented Super", or “a super”, he was just... A brat, a child, a kid who he ruffled his hair, could make blush with a joke, bring Chinese food or give a book for Christmas. That’s it. And was fine, because he didn’t feel like he had to explain anything or do something heroic to please him, not even pretend that he didn’t feel anything, or that he was more mature than he needed in pursuit of being the indestructible Superboy.

He inspired him a sense of normality, security. More or less the same as Conner. He liked that.

“So…”

The older one caught his attention and interrupted his thoughts, making him look at him and realize that he had half a cigarette left, as well as he wore the red mask under his helmet. The bat was looking straight ahead, but hadn’t continued speaking, he seemed to be measuring his words or thinking what to say, something weird about him that made Jonathan bow his head curiously and nervousness.

“The gremlin likes you.” Jason finished affirming with a serious tone and concise. “So much as someone can like to him, of course.”

Jon felt his heart jump again, but this time he controlled it, being aware that he didn’t have to say it that way, so he looked at him, urging him to continue. Although an unusual unease began to flood him, one he had never felt around him.

“And you like him.” The older man said again, still in that tone of strict yet inquisitive. “Right?”

For some reason, danger alarms started ringing in his head. Which made no sense, because as he had thought before, Jason had never been aggressive or dangerous towards him, he had no reason to be. So, what was wrong?

“…Yes?” Jon didn’t know how to respond, nor where that conversation went, but because of how the atmosphere was tense he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Is that a question?” Said then Red Hood, this time turning to look at him fixedly and the angry flooding his voice.

“No! I like him! I do.” This time he answered hurriedly and with more security, not wanting to anger him with vague answers. “He’s my best friend, of course I like him.”

Jason frowned and for a moment he looked like he had had a drink that had made him sick, looking at him in silence for a few seconds as if he had just said something that didn’t fit. Jon didn’t know what to think, the alarms kept ringing, and he shifted in his uncomfortable seat, he had never been so uncertain with him and his conversations had never had that tone, he didn’t even know what he could have done to anger him, if he was angry.

After a moment, Jason nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as if he had come to an agreement with himself. Again, he didn’t know what was going through his mind, he couldn’t know it either from what little he could see of his face, but he was still somewhat curious.

“I have kryptonite.” Hood announced suddenly.

Ok, that didn’t help him at all.

“Eh?” He asked, confused, still not knowing what he had done or how to fix it.

“And I know when to use it.”

“O-Okay?”

“Remember that when you grow up.” He sentenced then, throwing away the nearly finished cigarette and pointing a finger at him, like an offended middle-aged mother.

Jon, as confused as he was, would have liked to say that he was never going to forget it, because being aware of whom he shouldn’t annoy for having Kryptonite on him was basic survival for a Kryptonian. However, before he could say anything else or ask what was going on, a voice coming from the Red Hood helmet interrupted and made Jason part from him to let him breathe.

Jon instantly recognized the voice of the one who was trying to contact Red Hood, despite everything indicating that it was Tim, because Red Robin was already his partner in Gotham par excellence. Because of the way the other answered the call and smiled widely while putting the helmet back on to speak, Jonathan tried not to listen too much so as not to invade the privacy of the lovebirds (See, Superman? He isn’t that innocent. He knows things, even if he doesn’t want to tell you.) Although he wouldn’t have gotten listen a lot, because he was too distracted trying to assimilate the conversation he had just had and the possible implications.

Before reaching a conclusion, the hand calloused and larger from Jason fell on his head and stirred hair doing him squirming in his seat annoyed, huffing. He should have seen that coming.

“Sorry kid, duty calls me. Babybird says hello to you.” Jason said, this time in a tone much livelier and rising off the ledge. “It was a good talk; you are my favorite Superboy so far.”

This time he did roll his eyes, of course he was his favorite Superboy, if he couldn’t stand Kon and vice versa.

He wanted to ask what all the above had come from, the threat of kryptonite and all that, but instead he gave up and sighed as he looked how Jason stretched and then leaned to give him one last pat on the head, to bother, more than anything else.

Then, it was when he took his grapple gun to leave that he dispelled his doubts.

“Make the demon spawn happy, okay? No one can do it like you.” Said getting off from the ledge and pointing out the bag of food he had left as he walked away. “And enjoy your date!”

Jonathan couldn’t say goodbye because he was trying to control not only the strong blush that adorned his face, but the happy smile too, and the warmth that flooded his chest.

Gotham people were rough and rude, but also kind and patient. They protected what they loved and who they loved with ferocity and strength, as they watched how its happiness was prospering slowly. Jason Todd was from Gotham head to toe, that’s why only he was able to accept him, approve him for Damian, and threaten him with the typical shovel talk at the same time and in the same night so easily. It was natural for him.

Jon sighed happily and for a moment he wondered if the smile Jason had done when he heard Tim’s voice in comms was the same that he did when he spoke with Damian.

He knew the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, how was it?
> 
> This time it was a flashback going a little further back in time, a year before it all exploded (?) I know it wasn't important right now, but the reasons why I decided to do this chapter wasn't only to have something nice before the plot continues and the angst hits, but because Jon's point of view also deserves to be explored. It's obvious he also had his reasons for helping Tim and Jason and do what he did, so here is a small taste of his friendly relationship with Jason and why he was fond of him.
> 
> On the other hand, maybe I pointed out a lot that Jon was always more aware of his feelings for Damian as they got older, or at least knew before Damian. The reason for this is that Jon grew up in a more... friendly and open environment, where feelings were communicated correctly and not in a bat-way (?) At the same time I think his ability to hear hearts and all of that also had to influence something. However, even if he was aware, being in love with your best friend couldn't be easy either way, so I think it's normal for him to be happy if he received some sort of approval.   
> Another thing I like to explore with Jon is his maturity-not maturity. Because unlike Damian, he had a childhood, but at the same time when he sees himself as Superboy, he must mature in a very different way. He is treated as a child for some things, but as a full adult for others, and although I know that can also apply to the Robins, they didn't have a childhood as Jon did, that wasn't perfect but much better and healthy, and the same innocence wasn't expected of them. I like that Superboy had a life with less drama, but at the same time that implies that he had to mature by force and faster, which gives rise to the same personality crisis that his father has, I don't know, I find it interesting (?)  
> And well, about Jason, he tried guys (?) He was new to the big brother thing and did what he could. I like to think he usually sucks at talking to people like a normal person, so for me was funny to write that his first reaction at realizing Jon had a crush on his brother was to say "I have kryptonite, kid."
> 
> And well, I think I've talked too much. This time I'm in a better mood and it's only 2 a.m, so (?) And well, I will try to update next week or days after that, but I can't be sure because I'm travelling for a few days, but I can assure the next chapter is THE chapter, I'm so excited to write and post it, stay tuned!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and see you in the next update ~


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's POV. He knew exactly what he was doing when he helped Tim and Jason six years ago. But at the same time, he didn’t. No one was prepared to let them go the way they did, not even him. And now, after dealing with the consequences all this time, his heart was about to explode, he couldn't breathe. Because they were there, they were right there. His brothers were in front of him, and he couldn't move, couldn't do anything, because, once again, the weight of truth was about to crush him mercilessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there ~ How you doing?
> 
> I'm really, really sorry for the late update, oh my god, it has been nearly a month since the last chapter and I'm so sorry, for real. Right now I'm so busy with a lot of things and it was difficult for me sit down and just write, but this chapter was important and I wanted so badly to post it, so here it is! 
> 
> Thank you so much to all the people who have been reading this and giving kudos even without an update, I'm so happy you liked and read it and I hope you still enjoy it!
> 
> And well, as I said, this is THE chapter. Maybe this is what you have been waiting for, maybe not, let's see (?) Sorry if I have grammatical errors this time or something like that because maybe my English has gotten worse, I don't know (?) But now I hope everything's fine and you like this!
> 
> Now, enjoy ~

**_Now_ **

****

Silence.

The batplane was completely silent.

Technically not entirely, since like the many trips and flights that had been made with it, could be heard perfectly the ambient sound of the wind brushing and surrounding the plane as it advanced on its way, also the noise of the engines accelerating to reach their destination as quickly as possible, as well of the machines and the control panel echoing at the front of the cabin, with all the breaths and movements of those inside.

However, it was they, the bats in there, who were precisely in silence, without having uttered hardly any unnecessary words since they occupied their seats on the plane and taking extreme care of each of their movements, of their postures. The tension in the place and between them was such that they had the impression that any movement or whispering would unleash a true storm among all, although this was already occurring within each of them, it was preferable to keep it hidden and sheltered for the moment, covered and hidden in nobody’s eyes while they were in a clearly confined space and knowing what was about to happen.

Bruce was at the front of the batplane, paying attention to the control panel, and gripping the steering wheel with more force than necessary. It was curious to see him like this, tense, inflexible and dressed in civilian clothes, especially when they had already been used to see the figure of The Dark Knight handling that transport with his gloves, the hood and the cloak tangled in the seat, not his father, not Bruce.

Cassandra, curled up in the passenger seat, was the only one who had deigned to sit next to him. Her gaze insistently alternated between the screen of the GPS that was indicating their current position, and in front, where she could contemplate the sky and the clouds that passed through them. But she seemed too impatient and agitated to appreciate anything.

Stephanie was right behind her, but at a safe distance from the control panel and the driver, also curled up on herself and quieter than they’d ever seen her be. Dick, on the other hand, was at the other end of the cabin, away from everyone and lost in his thoughts as he stared at nothing.

Like him, Damian was there. Farther still, almost to the end of the cabin, sitting awkwardly and with his arms crossed, thoughtful, absorbed in his head and in everything that occupied and prowled around it without stopping.

Sometimes he looked up to capture the blue of the sky and the landscape below his feet, but he couldn’t concentrate to observe it better. He settled into his seat as best he could, trying to find a comfortable position that wouldn’t bother his injuries, something difficult after everything that had happened that morning. He also met Dick’s uneasy gaze several times, Stephanie’s too, but no one said anything, no one moved, they just turned away their eyes to continue silently and in the spiral of their thoughts, allowing the tension to build and the journey to become longer, more harrowing.

Damian knew the distance from Gotham to Florida was not that much, or at least not that much compared to all the places where he assumed that Tim and Jason could be hiding. After all, it was almost eighteen hours by car, and only about three by plane, less on the batplane. Still, he had the impression that this journey was going on for days, weeks. It was endless, exhausting, and every time he glanced at the clock on the control panel, he suppressed a sigh as he realized that only a few minutes had passed when he thought it had been an hour, even longer.

The fact that the whole situation felt like a countdown against him, calculating how much was left to ruin all his life and efforts these last six years, didn’t help.

Damian knew exactly what he was doing when he helped Tim and Jason six years ago. But at the same time, he didn’t.

Contrary to what some people on the plane were thinking, the idea to run away was not Timothy’s, nor Jason’s. No. The idea was his, all his. 100% Damian’s credit. What’s more, they even doubted at first, they were very surprised when he explained the idea to them, and they partially refused. It seemed crazy when after all at that moment they were being watched strictly by a family who didn’t believe in their relationship and Jason was still recovering from an unwarranted aggression that had meant a total rupture between both sides. Although in the end they ended up agreeing, obviously, which he didn’t regret at all.

He was sure that if the others found out about this, that he had not only been an accomplice, but the leader of the entire operation, they would be much more upset than they had already been, maybe he would even receive another punch. And he would probably start to receive the same questions that had already been asked before and had tried to answer ambiguously: How? Why?

The “how” was pretty easy.

At first, a simple call to his best contact was enough: Talia. She didn’t welcome the son she now called failure with open arms, but she did like everything that would benefit her and help her obtain the power she was after. His mother was a woman very aware of her own interests and recognized something that favored them at the time, she knew how to choose her battles well. Erase Tim and Jason from the map, make them disappear, it was one that was definitely worth it, so he didn’t have to convince her to agree.

Jason was a well-known failed project of Talia, a boy who she revived in the waters of Lazarus’ pit, brainwashed, trained and commanded into battle to cause damage to Bruce and all of Gotham under the poisonous ideas that she had implanted in his damaged and resurrected mind, to later see how he not only reformed and fought again on the side of the bats, but fell in love with the one she most wanted to eliminate.

Timothy, no doubt, had always been a clear obstacle to Talia, even from his Robin days. Something she had been waiting to get rid of and get out of the way as soon as possible at any cost. She manipulated Jason and manipulated him to hate him, to break him, to _kill_ him, because she was conscious of the obsession that his father, his grandfather, had with Timothy. Ra wanted Drake for himself, it was a fact. He wanted him, craved him, chased him, for him he was his perfect detective, the only worthy being who could challenge him, confront him. He wanted him to be his successor, his right hand, wanted him at his mercy and wanted to hand over his empire to him. Empire for which Talia had fought all her life and could lose to the third Robin.

Then, hiding the couple meant making her mistakes and her greatest threat disappear. Talia would gain respect and a big advantage with both vigilantes disappearing, she knew that, and she didn’t hesitate to take it all in immediately. Damian and the others didn’t have to wait a single full day before receiving instructions to get it all started.

After that, only the most difficult thing remained: the metas. Because no matter how much Tim and Jason changed identities, went to another continent, or avoided cameras, they had been friends of metahumans who could easily find them at any time. Any Super could identify their heartbeats wherever they were, and any Speedster could run around the world for them in seconds. They wouldn’t get very far if Superboy, Impulse, or even Starfire were involved in their search.

But he didn’t have to do much to fix that problem either because Jonathan volunteered. He didn’t even ask him, he didn’t even know that he was aware of what he was trying to do, but apparently, he was inside from the first moment, even before any plans were formulated. He simply appeared before them with a Kryptonian device sneakily pulled from the fortress of solitude and handed it over to them, assuring the red team that as long as they kept it close, it would block the metas and hide them from everyone without problem. It clearly worked, and too well seeing as how absolutely no one had been able to find them despite the many efforts made.

So, getting it all done was not as difficult as anyone might think. Especially when nobody suspected them or paid attention. Everyone was too busy focusing on all of Tim and Jason’s movements back then, and he and Jonathan were sixteen and thirteen, respectively. No one knew what was happening until it was too late, until they had been at the airport and left that damn note in the cave.

Regarding why they did it, he already explained how he was allowed that morning.

His brothers were tearing apart, little by little. Gotham were taking away a lot of things from them and continued to do so every day. Their vigilante lives began to overwhelm them more and more and the family didn’t help but make it worse with their indifference and their way of dealing with problems, including him.

Damian was sure that if they had not run away, if they had stayed in Gotham and continued with the rhythm they were taking, they would have ended up finally breaking and, with them, their relationship.

He just knows, he _knows_ that’s what would have happened if he wouldn’t have intervened.

As much as Todd insisted over and over that he didn’t need the attention of the bats around him, that he didn’t want anything to do with the family, his actions indicated how badly he needed approval and apologies from Bruce. Like Tim, who had always depended on that kind of acceptance ever since he was a child and had driven him to seek it wherever he could obtain it. And it didn’t matter how much they both fought for each other, for themselves and their relationship, the rejection of the family, of Bruce, hurt, _hurt_ them, made them suffer despite knowing what could happen, despite having hiding it for years to avoid the problem. They wanted to solve it, they wanted to fix it. But besides all of that, both were also rooted to Gotham and its people in a way that Damian could never empathize, sacrificing and fighting tirelessly for the city until they reached that point of no return where they were, where they sacrificed their lives and his whole being.

Their loyalty and sacrifice for the city, for the bats, was too big, it meant too much to both of them and if they didn’t let them go, if they kept tying up that way, eventually everything would have split them in two, it would have separated them, and they would have allowed it in order to keep the place standing and the bat happy. As always, they were able to consecrate their own happiness for someone else even without wanting to, without realizing it.

But Damian did it, and he couldn’t allow it. He just couldn’t, much less at that time.

Damian could lie to others and himself all he wanted, but the need for his brothers to be happy was there. The perspective of them losing what they had because the other bats couldn’t see it, sacrificing their happiness for them again, was too much for him. He thought it was too unfair.

He knew he had been an insufferable brat for years, that he had caused too much trouble, done too much hurt, and could have _ruined_ their lives with his mere presence, but whether they wanted it or not he grew up, they all did, and his relationship with them had improved considerably over the years, too much to let what was happening happen in front of his eyes and stand with arms crossed. Damian’s appreciation for his brothers had grown in a way that he never imagined at first, feeling something that never thought what could feel towards no one, because he and Jason shared a similar past that made them lean on the other without words, and Tim… It was Tim, just like that. Both were patient and annoying until the end, but one day he realized that he loved them and couldn’t see how they were about to collapse.

They were a weakness, he knew.

But Damian knew too that he had been a participant in inflicting their suffering, and that moment was the best time to fix it, he could _fix it_. Because the best way to prevent Gotham, the family, and the vigilante lifestyle from destroying their brothers, was for them to leave everything behind, including everyone, including _him_. They couldn’t hurt them if they weren’t there. It was that simple.

And that was without doubt his best way to earn their forgiveness, to make amends with them: Give them freedom from all the chains that imprisoned them.

Jonathan felt the same, he knew it. He owed the red team nothing, not in the same way that Damian did, he didn’t need to feel deserving of their affections or forgiven for his past actions, but Jason and he were friends, and Tim practically raised him with Conner. He was also too fond of them to do anything, and most importantly: he wanted them to stay happy together.

Anyone would say that he and Jonathan, beyond the brotherly love they felt for the other two, helped them because they reflected too much their own relationship in the elders’. And they would be right.

They didn’t have the same story as them, and they weren’t the same people either, but unintentionally and without knowing they had turned in their greatest reference in terms of relationships, their support to carry theirs forward and, without a doubt, the push they needed to start dating. Their parents seemed not want to see what happened between them back then, as if it didn’t exist and everything followed its normal course, they kept doing it even today. They were both young, had not discussed their sexuality with anyone else and the indifference of their guardians stopped them from doing so. Nor did they know how to cross beyond the line of friendship with the one who was their greatest confidant and puberty is the worst time for human beings. They both felt trapped, confused, and the longest and closest healthy homosexual relationship they ever knew was Tim and Jason, who were in hiding and Damian didn’t even find out about them until the end, but they always seemed to understand and accept their situation more than their own parents.

Then, when everything exploded, both didn’t hesitate when choosing sides, and not when they helped them escape too. The rejection of Tim and Jason may have affected them as if it had been directed at them, their relationship with their parents was almost irreparable, but they turned that pain into stubbornness and courage to confess their feelings and help them to leave. Because they wanted them to stay together, _they needed_ them to stay together, since that was their way of showing everyone, themselves, that they could be happy, that they were not in danger. Both Tim and Jason, and them.

So, yes, they did. They helped them, planned, and carried it out, being fully aware of what they were doing.

However, it was what came after that they didn’t consider.

They became so focused on helping those two to escape, that at any moment they didn’t stop to think what would become of them and their surroundings once they left.

They should have.

The nightmares, the anxiety, the secrets, and the paranoia became his new normality. The enormous guilt that came with their actions hit them too hard and fast, without giving them time to even assimilate or change it, because once it was done there was no going back.

They both thought they were ready to let Tim and Jason go, but they weren’t. Not them, not their families, not their friends, not even the hero community. No one. The huge gap that their absence left in their teams and families was too big, but they had already disappeared and all that remained was that stupid note along with the consequences it produced.

The batfamily fell apart like a house of cards in a matter of days, and it could have been in hours if they had not been focused on the search, but the fights continued without rest and the resentment along with the tension didn’t do more than increase over time. The Titans and all the metas who knew the missing ones contributed to the search, but there was no clue, making the situation worse if possible. They were all trying to find a common culprit, or a valid and less painful reason than the one they had to leave because they were unhappy, they even hoped to find them, but they weren’t going to get anything.

And as the days, the weeks, the months went by, the tension increased, everything got worse and both Damian and Jon had to get away from those whose presence could no longer bear, either due to a total loss of confidence after what happened, or because they found themselves seeing themselves as those traitors who had brought suffering to their family and friends.

Damian couldn’t trust anyone, not anymore, not his father, not Grayson either. He felt like everyone had fallen too high from the pedestal on which he had them and had to watch Bruce fall into another self-destructive spiral where no Robin was going to get him out this time. The betrayal and rejection he had felt from them didn’t allow him to have a civil conversation with none until eleven months after what happened at least, and even with Grayson he needed more time without wanting to yell at him until he was hoarse. Yet, he had to endure seeing how Brown, Batgirl, walked away increasingly because she couldn’t bear to see their faces, and how Cassandra came back from his mission in China to find her lost and broken family, how Alfred completed his tasks silently and not daring to say a word of it too, afraid to bring up the subject and cause again all those discussions both new and old that originated after the disaster.

Jonathan also felt deeply betrayed by his father and his lack of response to what happened, for his inflexible opinion in agreement with Bruce’s and his indifference to what his son felt. Damian knew they had a fight much stronger than Jon had wanted to admit, that he threw more things in his face than he said, but he decided not to pressure him on the subject and respect if at any time he wanted to give more details. Besides that, his boyfriend saw how Conner Kent crumbled at the loss of his Robin, how he looked for him without a break over and over again to the point of even neglecting his responsibilities with his team and his own health.

All that pain, all that loss, all the tears, the screams, the fights, and the problems, they caused it. All of them. Without hesitation. And the best thing is that they weren’t planning to fix it. No. They would take the secret to the grave if possible, because if there was one thing they couldn’t regret or back down, it was to make Tim and Jason happy, despite the enormous price they had to pay.

In their poor defense, they didn’t know that everything was going to fall apart like that. They didn’t come to think that the reaction would be so strong, nor the chain of disasters that followed. But it wasn’t until they saw everyone suffering and tearing apart that they realized what they had done, and that everyone would get very angry if they found out about their actions.

So, they had no choice but to keep quiet and move on, because what else could they do? They hid it all, they studied, went together to prom, moved into their apartment in Metropolis, Damian got a job, Jon is in college, and despite the difficult family situation and missing the red team a lot, they looked for their own happiness and normality where they knew they could find it, where they taught them they could get it.

And they were fine, really.

They were together and fine. The weight of guilt was not so big if you shared it, and they both learned to lie fairly well together at an early age, also to continue side by side no matter what. They didn’t even have to lie that much, just pretend, because they never had a clue where Todd and Drake were, the best was not knowing it and the moment they saw them go through the airport gate, they too disappeared for them completely.

Mostly, they couldn’t talk normally with their parents, sometimes they had to be too on guard or alert in case someone discovered something, every now and then everything became too much and they lost control of their emotions, but they always ended up overlapping. They had nightmares in which everyone surrounded them and yelled that it was their fault, in which they saw flashbacks of happy moments turned into true horrors, where they heard resentment, poison towards them and pure hatred. But despite waking up screaming, crying, begging for forgiveness, they didn’t forget the most important thing: they did it for a reason, and they weren’t responsible for everything.

If you love something you have to let it go, and that’s just what Tim and Jason chose to do. As much as they had been the ones to give them the option, it’s what they chose and they had to respect it, they had to deal with it. They couldn’t tie them to a life of misfortune, nor force them to return when they weren’t even part of the real problem there.

Damian was determined to do that for as long as possible, to protect their new lives with everything he had, during all of his if necessary, because that decision was the only selfish decision that his brothers had made in a long time, the only one they had made thinking of themselves, and he felt they deserved it, he _knew_ they deserved it. He was going to fight to preserve that.

For that, maybe he should have tried a lot harder in Zodome to avoid this disaster.

He had to hold back himself not to curse and fall prey to his anger when Gordon revealed in the batcave that the reason they had found his brothers had been because of the explosion in which he had been involved. He had felt so helpless, because he hadn’t found out what had caused the disaster until that meeting, and it didn’t make it better.

The whole time he thought that the terrorist cell he was chasing was on the island because of its black market and its easy access, didn’t come to imagine that they were going after a hidden supercomputer of the league that they wanted to sabotage and that they would also fail in their attempt, almost killing him and uncovering his lies.

If he had been faster, if he had been more focused, if he hadn’t been regretting and missing his brothers _again_ , if he had been _better_ , none of this would have happened. They definitely wouldn’t be on their way to Florida.

He could have prevented so many things. And yet he had failed, failed them, again.

No matter how hard he had fought for them, how long he had resisted, in the end everything had fallen apart because he couldn’t fulfill a simple mission or control his temper.

It was very frustrating.

Damian dug his nails into his forearms, squirming in his seat. His back hurt, also the side of his face where Grayson had hit him before. His fingers itched a lot, he wanted his phone back, his comms, _something_. He wanted to call Jonathan and make sure he was okay, safe, at least hear his voice to be able to calm down. But they had both been isolated from each other and from everyone by the time Damian made his confession.

As they thought it would happen, just when the others learned the truth took all forms of communication and kept them under surveillance. Jon was surely under the strict and impassive gaze of Clark after a warning from his father. As if any of them could jump in at any moment and alert Tim and Jason that they had been caught and they were going for them, when in fact they didn’t know how to contact them or where they were.

He sighed, felt Grayson’s gaze on him again but completely ignored it. He was tired, angry, and resentful. He felt like an animal on the way to the slaughterhouse, his heart pounding and his mistakes hounding him, reminding him of everything he could have done to prevent this. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, he didn’t want to see anyone. All he wanted to do was scream, get mad, scream more, fight and beg for them to turn around, to stop the plane and all this madness, to go back to Gotham and forget everything they knew so they could get on with their lives like until now.

But that was already impossible, everything had changed, and they were not going to forget it, they couldn’t.

Looking straight ahead, Damian remembered Barbara Gordon’s soft grip on his arm before getting on batplane, he remembered the way she leaned, whispered an apology and with an indecipherable look said it.

“Even if you don’t know it or want to admit it, you need this Damian. You need to see _it_.”

He considered his answer, but he just gave her a cold look and got on the plane. He sat in his place, waited for takeoff, and hadn’t moved since, still quiet and waiting for this journey to end and see the destruction of what his life had been until now.

Everything was still silent; everyone was still quiet.

Damian didn’t care. After all, he had been six years without speaking, what mattered a little more?

~0.0~

They landed before lunchtime, outside the city, about a thirty-minute walk from the town. They were not detected, and their objective was not to attract the attention to alert the former vigilantes of the place.

Even after landing, for a few seconds, no one dared to move or say anything at all, even though some of them seemed to be about to get off the plane and begin the search immediately. They all stood still as if they could break a fragile peace that had never existed. The tension seemed to reach its peak just as Bruce got up and began to give directions of the procedure to be followed. Without having Oracle’s help this time to track them down immediately, they had to break up into groups to explore the area and check out the places they already knew Tim and Jason had been seen, hoping to meet them.

Dick and Cass would go to the local electronics store and its surroundings, where Tim might appear. It was obvious why Grayson chose to search for Drake first, and why Cass was with him, since there was no doubt that Timothy could attack him as soon as he sees him. He didn’t blame him; he would do it too.

Brown would take care of the library, where they saw Jason. She was not in much danger with him if she found him, at least not entirely. Stephanie was not so involved in the conflict and her relationship with Jason had always been neutral, they had a mutual respect that they could use to their advantage this time.

Damian was evidently forced to go with his father, who was clearly not going to leave him alone on the plane and was watching and controlling him like he was still ten years old and was planning to do something stupid. Much to his regret, he planned to check out the downtown area and where the other two had been seen crossing a pedestrian crossing that morning, having to cover a less specific and greater terrain.

Great.

Damian had assumed his complaints would not be heard at all, no matter what he felt, how angry he was or how bad what they were doing was. So, he decided to apply the total ice tactic and be silent all the way to the small town, analyzing the route, the place, thinking how easy it would be to run and alert his brothers before disaster struck. He didn’t, and he didn’t say a word as they all parted, and the search began. Just kept going next to his father, rigid, tense. He felt as if he were outside his own body, in another place, everything seemed out of focus and his nerves were on the surface. It was difficult to breathe, his chest contracted more and more, and he didn’t want to look at the streets, at the people. He feared so much meeting Drake and Todd. Standing next to Bruce looking for them, he felt like the most twisted of the traitors, again.

The traitor betraying again, what a surprise.

At least the place wasn’t too bad, for what little he deigned to see. As reported, the town was small and cozy, smelled of the sea and clean air. It was close to the beach and it was a sunny and lively place, very neat and beautiful with a close community made up of families and locals from there along with some tourists. They all seemed quite close and upper-middle class, from what could be seen.

It was very different from Gotham.

Laughter, lively conversations and happy sounds of children and adults, accompanied by the sound of the waves in the distance and life in general in the city were heard. It was refreshing, something new, different. There was no fog, no dark alleys, trash, rats, or the constant threat that a madman dressed as a clown would brutally murder you and your children for fun.

Damian had stopped for a second to look at a lady who was walking his dog -a white chihuahua very ugly, but funny and whose face of sorrow in this life alleviated his anguish a little- when his father’s voice made him turn to him in annoyance.

“I have brought your phone and comms.” He said to him as he continued walking, urging him to follow him and quite attentive to the area in case he saw any sign of those he had come looking for.

Damian didn’t answer, he just kept walking beside him.

He knew he wasn’t going to return any of this or stop watching him until he was sure he couldn’t interfere with his plans, but he was informing him of it to gain ground with him. It was always his way of trying to score points, it was a kind of punishment veiled with concern and the usual parental explanation for not looking so bad. The typical “I have punished you with this, but I’m being good, I hope you understand and forgive me because this is your fault for misbehaving, not mine.”

It won’t work.

“I’ll give them back to you as soon all of this ends.” He continued saying when seeing that he didn’t obtain an answer.

Damian rolled his eyes and continued in silence, walking briskly. It hadn’t worked, mostly because he wasn’t thirteen anymore and knew the trick, so he was still angry, a lot.

Bruce had to realize that hadn’t gone as expected, because he heard him sigh and call him again, in a slight tone of reproach.

“Damian.”

No answer.

“Damian Wayne.” He called him again in a severe tone. “Can you speak to me, please?”

He didn’t speak. What’s more, he looked at a couple that passed right by them as they walked to a black Lab, who seemed very happy to be there. Reminded him a bit of Titus, he missed him, his friend had a good life.

“You are no longer a child, and I hope you understand that in these situations you are required not to behave as such.”

He frowned. Really? The trick of maturity wasn’t going to work either right now, much less when the first to treat him like a child it was precisely him, invalidating his opinions and keeping an eye on him. He couldn’t be serious.

He snorted and kept walking, not wanting his temper to get the better of him again and crossing the crosswalk that he recognized as the one from the photo he had seen on the batcomputer. His heart clenched for a second, he lowered his head holding his breath, because he was stepping on the same ground that his brothers had passed, they had been _here_ and now he was crossing it with his father while they were looking for them.

The chances that they were getting closer to them were more and more real, the option of being found head-on were many and his hands had started to sweat. He didn’t know what he would do if that happened, he didn’t know how he would react if it was Bruce and he who ended up finding them before anyone else.

“Giving me the silent treatment will not solve anything of this, son.” Bruce ended up saying again, crossing the street in a tired tone and ignoring the internal struggle that Damian had at that moment.

At that, the last Robin looked at him angrily, because of what had said in itself, and because he had called him “son”. He had no right to play that trick at the moment, at all. He refused, and he was too upset right now to that.

“What we’re doing either, but we’re doing it anyway, right?” He finally reproached him with coldness and aversion.

He listened to Bruce sigh again and kept walking, stepping forward to leave him a little behind and still without looking closely around. He continued going down the street after crossing the pedestrian crossing, staring at the ground and with his heart beating faster and faster. He didn’t want to walk, he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to continue arguing, he wanted to go home and hold Jonathan until they couldn’t make out where one began and the other ended.

“You have to understand that this is necessary.” Bruce justified himself behind him, still in that serious and exhausted tone.

Damian felt anger wash over him once more, almost rising up his throat and burning it to start screaming and throw words sharp like knives. But they were in public, the goal was not to attract attention and nothing good would come of losing control now.

They came to an intersection with an avenue, but Damian continued without looking back, hoping to lose sight of his father for as long as possible.

“For whom?” He asked with annoyance. “Tt.”

Clearly solely for them. He, Grayson, or whoever couldn’t live with what they had done. But that wasn’t his problem, nor was it anyone’s. They didn’t have to do this, it was unnecessary, but after all Damian was the selfish one for not having said a word about what he did for years.

Of course.

He hoped to hear an answer behind him, knowing that his father would try to lecture him, scold him, or make him understand his point of view, but curiously he got nothing. When Damian took a couple of steps across the intersection, he realized that he didn’t listen either the unmistakable Bruce’s steps behind or beside him, they had disappeared.

He frowned and snorted exasperated.

“What? Now is it you who’s going to give me the silence treatment?” He complained in annoyance and stopped on his own steps to turn around and look at him, the disgust inside him urged him to start another discussion.

However, when he caught a glimpse of his father and realized that he was completely still, rigid, standing and watching in awe to his right, fixing his gaze in something, in _someone_ , which was far down the avenue, that disgust quickly transformed into a mixture of anxiety and emotion so strong that Damian could have passed out if he hadn’t been so on guard.

Slowly, fearfully but curious, he turned his head and followed his father’s stunned gaze to where it had been frozen.

And he wanted to scream.

He wanted to scream, cry, laugh, he wanted to run there, wanted to flee, wanted to do many things but felt completely incapable of doing none because like Bruce he froze, was petrified and was unable to react, unable to decide.

Because they were _right there_.

Timothy Drake and Jason Todd were right there. A few meters from them.

His hands started to tremble, to sweat, he couldn’t breathe, he _couldn’t_ , his throat was closed, his lungs could barely function well, his heart was beating so hard he couldn’t hear anything else, his head was in chaos, everything turned and stirred.

But it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter at all, because they were there, they were _just there_.

Damian couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but stare intensely, trying to assimilate that it was true, that it was them, in front of him. They were alive, they were fine, they were there, and they still hadn’t realized that they were near, observing them and about to run towards them.

They were on the sidewalk, talking lively with two women, who seemed to really enjoy their company. Their postures and smiles were relaxed, open. They were side by side and chatting with each other as if there was no other problem in the world, and if he paid enough attention, if he tuned his ears enough, he could hear Jason’s deep voice and Drake’s light laugh in the distance. And they had definitely changed, they had grown. They were more mature, more adults plus attractive if that was possible. Jason still kept his white lock in his hair and his leather jacket, but his posture was less threatening, calmer, it seemed more centered and stable than ever. Tim had cut his hair, and looked shorter if possible, but he kept that soft and genuine smile he never wore while he was in one of the expensive suits he wore at WE.

In the eyes of both there was light, there was life, a shine that he had never seen in them. They carried an aura that he never thought he would witness in them.

His eyes itched, he could cry, he didn’t know if he had already started to cry. His instincts screamed at him, screamed so much, so many different things and with such force that he didn’t know which ones to follow. One part told him to pick up his father, get away from that street, not alert others and leave in order to keep that light in them forever. But the another yelled at him to run towards them, to approach them suddenly, hug them hard and _never_ let go, because he had missed them _so much_ , and was glad that they were still together and so calm.

The instincts to go to them seemed to win definitively when Jason’s bigger figure leaned closer to Timothy’s to put his arm around his shoulders, causing the smaller to smile at him and intertwine their hands together without hesitation, where -for a second- an unusual shine on the fingers of both hands caught his eye.

Rings. That were rings. They wore rings. Wedding rings. Alliances.

His resolve broke, his mind went blank. Without realizing it, Damian took a step, then another, another. Tentative, automatic, unconscious steps. He still couldn’t barely breathe and now his gaze was focused on their clasped hands, on their posture, in that hug, at their smiles while they were still talking without realizing they were there.

Just as he was about to start running, a firm and powerful hand grabbed his forearm hard and pulled him back, making him complain and stumble in surprise on his steps. He hadn’t seen that coming, and he turned astonished to see how his father, surprised too, had clung to his arm, and held him in place, shaking his head.

He looked at him in startled, almost panicked, breathing hard and with a million questions going through his mind, but discarding them all quickly at the fact that he was stopping him from going to his brothers.

A shrill chime that was too familiar rang out somewhere, but that wasn’t important to him right now.

Damian shook his arm hard, flustered, grabbed Bruce’s hand, and tried to pull it away from him, shaking his head. But he couldn’t push him away, his father didn’t let him go, he tried to take a step towards his brothers and was pushed back again. He was breathing faster his heart was going to explode.

“No.” His father said, his voice also broken with nervousness. “Wait. No.”

He didn’t want to wait. He couldn’t. But the fact that it was precisely Bruce who wanted to wait now, who was stopping him right now, turned his alarms back on and in his agitation, Damian realized that something was wrong, that he was missing something.

Shaking his head hard and trying to regulate his breathing, he turned his gaze back to the ex-robins to realize that the scene in front of him had changed, that indeed, in his surprise for having them close again and his focus to watching them, he had been missing an important detail.

A very important detail.

The women his brothers were talking to were not the only ones on this street, there were more people there, it was full of adults, more groups talking to each other, men and women waiting for something in front of a building. A big one, well-kept, with traffic signs specific that he knew and with a gate of colors, childish. It was now open and from which children were coming out, who were screaming, shouting, laughing, and running to the adults who welcomed them with open arms.

Wait.

The adults were parents. This was a fucking _school_.

“Dad!”

“Daddy!”

Two voices, shrill and childish, repeated those words with genuine joy as they quickly approached Tim and Jason, whose smiles grew up, and they looked fondly at each other.

A boy and a girl, small, smiling, and excited, entered the scene. Holding hands and running as fast as their short legs allowed them, they finished throwing themselves towards Jason and Tim, laughing happily, with squeals of excitement and a warm welcome.

Jason caught the girl in mid-jump, hugging her tightly and not taking long to cover her face with kisses as she squirmed and laughed out loud, happy in his grip. Tim bent down to extend his arms and receive an effusive hug from the boy, separating shortly to leave the most tender and gentle kiss that Damian had never seen on his cheek while the child allowed himself to be picked up carefully to be hold. After that, they both ended up with smiling children in their arms as they talked, greeted the other and laughed with them.

“I haven’t said _everything_.” Barbara said. “You have to see it, Damian.” Barbara said.

Well.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... WELL.
> 
> I don't know what to say, and where to start, but this time I don't want to talk so much (?)
> 
> This is one of the first chapters and ideas that came up to my head when I started to think in this fic, what's more, this was meant to be the FIRST chapter of the fanfic. But instead I started to develop the plot and decided to wait for it, as you see it ended being chapter 13 (?) But until now, I can say everything was a type of introduction until this point, here is when everything starts to burn!
> 
> And well, related to the chapter, I needed to explain Damian's point of view and enter in details about how and why he did what he did. I know I had explained in the other chapters, but I just see better to have Damian talking about it to understand better his battle with himself and his contradictions. His reaction when he finally sees Tim and Jason was meant to be important from the start, and even if maybe it appeared to be more emotional than Damian's usual reflections and thoughts about the topic, I think writing and reflecting the contrast between his rational thoughts and his feelings was what I intended to do in this chapter. Everyone could be rational in his head after have some time of reflection, but at the moment, in the experience, you have to deal with your impulses, with your feelings, and Damian had a lot them at the moment to be fully rational, Bruce too, you will see.  
> And well, about the cliffhanger, the kids and Tim and Jason's lives now, you will have to wait (? Sorry, but this scene has always end like this in my head before started to writing everything xD And I know many of you expected a chaotic reunion with all of them there and Tim and Jason just putting everyone in their places, but it has always been more complicated than that (?
> 
> But don't worry, just wait for that moment to happen, because it will happen!
> 
> And well, regarding the next chapter, I don't know when I could write it, as I said I'm so busy right now, I have to make the move to return to my country these days and have a lot to flights and travel, but I will try to do it ASAP. I could tell you it will be a fluffy flashback at least (?)
> 
> But yeah, that's everything I think, thank you so much for reading me and being interested in this fic until now! I will look forward to getting better and continue ~
> 
> Thank you ~


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's POV.
> 
> “You know what? If you did, Damian would love your children.”
> 
> Jon couldn’t react in time before the other raised a finger and left a quick and loving touch on his nose, making Jon smile relieved.
> 
> “You think so?” Tim asked laughing softly with him.
> 
> “I'm sure!” He nodded. “He would do anything for his nephews, even without knowing them.”
> 
> It was as if he could see it. It hadn’t even happened yet, and it may never have because who knows if any of the bat kids were willing to add more members to the family. But time would tell, and Jon knows very well his best friend.
> 
> He knows he’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... WELL.
> 
> Please, don't kill me. I know I KNOW it took me a long time to update this fic, and I'm really sorry. It has been difficult for me to return to my country, adapt again and the situation here with corona is much worse that took me a bit to regain inspiration and the habit to write again. But I'm not lying when I say I want to finish this fic and share it with you guys, so even if its cost me here is chapter 14.
> 
> Thank you for real to all the people who have been reading this and giving it kudos during this break because they are the reason I could write this, and I hope you like the new chapter even if it isn't what you waited for~

**_Eight years ago_ **

“Do you want to have children?”

Jonathan didn't even stop to think for more than two seconds before asking that, not realizing how unusual the question was and how it had caused an awkward silence in the cozy, warm kitchen of the Kent farmhouse.

The usual sounds that characterized the outskirts of Smallville, the barking of Krypto in the distance, the soft rumble of the other animals in the place and noises on the farm in the distance were all that was heard for a few seconds after that question had been asked.

Timothy’s indigo eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he slowly turned to him, abandoning his Tablet and the various Wayne Industries documents and notes he had brought with him this time to look at him with curiosity and a raised eyebrow.

Jon just shrugged at his reaction and stared at him, waiting for an answer while he put his pencil onto his boring and hateful math book.

A few more seconds of silence passed in which they just looked at each other before Tim finally woke up from his reverie.

“What?” He asked almost confused.

Jon moved his legs back and forth as he shifted slightly in his seat, controlling himself not to shrug again. The truth is that he didn’t know exactly why he had asked that question, it had merely appeared in his head in the same way as one of those internet pop-ups that are so little appreciated but still have to be seen, infecting his thoughts of the same way a shady ad could infect your computer and cause him to drop it in the middle of his strange study/tutoring session with the third Robin.

They weren’t actually in one of their regular tutoring sessions, because these tended to occur with more planning and in Metropolis, when Timothy wasn’t busy with work enough to get around. However, that weekend they had both met at the Kent farm, Jonathan because he was in charge of his grandparents while his parents worked despite being eleven years old and able to take care of himself, and Tim because it had been a long time since he had visited Conner and the Kents, who had insisted him to come and adored him with a devotion almost as suspicious as the attempted shovel talk that they had tried to give him this morning at breakfast.

But since Tim hadn’t been able to get rid of all his office work successfully, neither Jon of his homework, and much less Conner of his farm responsibilities with Ma and Pa, a joint work-study session was born out of nowhere when they settled together at the kitchen table.

They had both been into their duties and responsibilities until Jonathan, being distracted looking at his older brother’s best friend thoughtfully, ended up asking that with an almost alarming curiosity and impatience, which obviously had not been satiated.

“Like… “He said, knowing that the older had heard him perfectly. “Kids, babies… Would you like to have one?”

Tim opened his mouth, still wide-eyed, seemed to think it better and closed it, then opened it and closed it again as a mixture of confusion and terror began to cross his expression. He turned his head to one side, then the other, seeming to be looking for something or someone he considered better to have this conversation with him, which Jon didn’t understand because he hadn’t asked such a weird question, had he?

Finally, seeing no one around, the bat seemed to resign himself to a horrible fate and turned to him with the most tense posture he had ever seen in the hero, even though he had seen Red Robin get sometimes scolded by Wonder Girl.

“This isn’t a way of asking me where babies come from, isn’t it?” Tim said, still tense and confused.

One, two, three seconds until Jon realized what he was implying.

“No!” He exclaimed in shame, feeling his cheeks burn and almost jumping out of his seat. “Why do you think that?!”

Rao, how did he come to that conclusion? Jon’s question had been very clear, he had not mentioned anything about wanting babies, or where they came from, or how to… He had already studied that in class and had a very uncomfortable talk with his mother about it, he didn’t need more, thank you so much.

At least Tim’s reaction had more sense now, seeing what he had thought.

“And what should I think?” Tim answered then, even more confused. “No one your age asks that unless they have thought about it.”

“It’s nothing like that!” Jon replied, frustrated and still with reddened cheeks.

He was old enough to know those things. Plus, Jon was smarter not to ask a bat those kinds of questions, because who knows what they might say to him. He still remembered the lost and disturbed look on Damian’s face when he confessed that his father instead of trying to talk to him about that, he appeared in his room with a very strange look after telling him that he was going to do a group presentation with a classmate and _asked_ him to “be careful”.

So, no. It wasn’t because of that, and if Timothy thought that question was his own curiosity about human reproduction, he could be reassured that it wasn’t.

“Are you sure?” The older asked then, leaning towards him as that confused expression turned into a serious, suspicious one, his eyes shining in a way that did not inspire confidence.

“Yes!” Jon quickly exclaimed again, in fear.

Oh, no. Rao, he didn’t believe him, what if Tim tried to give him the real talk now? All the alarms within him went off.

“Really?” He asked again, studying him with his eyes.

“Yes! Really!”

Tim narrowed his eyes further and Jon felt that uncomfortable feeling that he knew many felt when the boy looked at anyone in such an intense way, studying them, looking at every detail and digging into the depths of his being to get whatever he was looking for.

After a few seconds, he seemed to finish and looked into his eyes with determination.

“It’s normal for you to ask those questions at your age, you know.”

Oh, no, no, no.

“I’m not...”

“But I’m not the right person to talk to you about these things, Jonathan.”

Stop. Stop!

“It is not...”

“We should call Conner. Or your Grandpa.”

Jon felt real and genuine panic when he heard him say that and then saw how Tim turned in his chair as he opened his mouth to call Kon or the older Jonathan, not knowing in the process he could destroy his life through the shame and embarrassment the whole thing would cause him if he was really going to force his older brother or grandfather to talk to him about... babies.

“No!" He yelled desperately as he quickly got up and ran up to him to put his hand over his mouth, preventing him from calling anyone. “Please don’t do it! It’s not what you think, I swear!”

He tried to control his strength not to hurt Tim and at the same time prevent him from slipping out of his grip and being able to call Conner, or worse: Pa or Ma. Jon felt himself blushing at the mere thought of having to pass through that kind of conversation with any of them. He preferred to shut himself up for a year in the fortress of solitude with only the company of noodles and a robot, and even the robot could disappear after such public humiliation.

However, as he begged and tried to convince Tim not to call anyone, to believe that he didn’t need that kind of talk, he noticed that the teenager was shaking slightly under his grip, and after a few seconds in which he made sure it was not because he was trying to get away from him, he realized what was actually happening.

“You’re laughing!” He complained in surprise.

Tim’s eyes sparkled amused and when he finally pulled his hand away and released him, it was the sound of the boy’s soft, light laugh that flooded the Kent’s kitchen, causing the uncomfortable and silent atmosphere disappeared to return to being the homely and cheerful room as always. For a moment, Jonathan wanted to laugh with him, if it weren’t for the fact that deep down, he was a little offended.

“You were playing with me.” Superboy affirmed as he crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, grumpy.

Tim, trying to stifle his laugh and straightening up in his chair as well, looked at him with a playful smile and shook his head.

“You were so nervous.” He admitted leaning his elbows on the table. “I couldn’t help it, it was easy.”

Jon’s cheeks reddened again, and he stared at his notebook with a frown. Now he could understand Damian when he told him that his brothers were worse than his, not only because he had many more to the point that the Justice League itself could no longer keep up with how many kids were in Bruce’s home, but because Conner was still too new regards being a big brother and a little too soft on him to make him an easy target for those kinds of sibling jokes.

Also, Jon was aware that Conner was so permissive with him because his relationship with Clark was not very stable yet, and he didn’t want to undo the little development they had achieved being harsh or annoying him.

That annoyed him, the fact that his brother and father’s relationship was so fragile that Conner didn’t seem capable of behaving like an average older brother, but at least they were better these days, right?

He couldn’t keep thinking about it, because then he noticed how Tim had finally stopped laughing at him and had moved his chair a little closer to his to lean and look over his homework.

“Now, seriously” Said the older, picking up the pencil that he had left and beginning to point out the few errors in his math problems. “Why that question? It’s not on your math homework.”

This time he snorted and smiled slightly at his sarcasm, settling into the chair more relaxed and keeping quiet as he thought about how to formulate his answer correctly. He looked at Tim silently, the way he had approached him ignoring and completely setting aside his WE document as if nothing mattered when that morning he had insisted to Kon that he had to finish them; the way he had folded the sleeve of his red sweatshirt up to his elbow and propped it away from his books so as not to spoil them; the soft smile he wore as he carefully corrected his homework; And the tender gleam in his eyes as he patiently explained to him what his mistakes had been and how to correct them without any condescension on his part.

Jonathan felt again the same warm and affectionate feeling that had flooded him that morning when Tim told Ma Kent that he didn’t mind working with Jon in the kitchen because then neither would be alone, and he couldn’t help but let his thoughts lead him to the same place as about minutes -before asking the damn question- while Drake helped and congratulated him on solving the equation that had been so difficult for him.

“I think you would be a good father.” He finally answered when they had finished reviewing his homework. “I just thought it would be a shame if you didn’t want to have children.”

This time, Tim’s eyes didn’t widen in surprise, nor did they sparkle with amusement. Nor did he look away, smile, or seem disturbed by his statement. On the contrary, he didn’t express more than a bit of daze for an instant, dissipating as he looked at him silently and thoughtfully, curious, tilting his head slightly after a moment as he seemed to think more intensely and consider all his options and possible answers. As if Jonathan had told him the most indecipherable of riddles ever known, and he had to solve it.

What’s more, if Superboy could hear that sort of thing, he was sure he could hear Tim’s brain working at full speed, the intricate and complex network of gears that might be assembled in his brain working at an alarming speed to process and make sense of what he had heard.

“Why?” Tim finally with an eyebrow raised, still quite curious at his words.

“You’re nice with me.” Jon answered immediately with simplicity. “More with Damian."

In general, Tim was good with children, in his somewhat cold but confident way. And as surprising as it may seem, he was not the only one within bats with that ability. It may have been something inherent within the family or even the Gothamites themselves, but in reality it was not a secret to anyone that no matter how dark and characteristic all of them were, the bats seemed to know how to deal with children quite well when the time came. All, including Damian, seemed to have that _something_ that made the youngest victims of the horrors that could be witnessed in their city trust and feel safe in their presence, and even if each did it in their own way, the kids still got to like them.

“ _You are a child too."_ A voice in his mind reminded him.

Yeah, okay. But he wasn’t a normal child, was he?

Maybe Tim’s thoughts were going exactly the same way because he frowned at him and didn’t seem very convinced by his statements.

“Doesn’t matter.” He ended up saying with assurance, as if he was already completely sure of the outcome of this conversation. “You and Damian are not ordinary children. Besides, you are family.”

Jonathan decided to let go the joy and warmth it produced inside him knowing that Tim thought of him as a little brother too (or at least something very close to it) and he snorted.

“What if we weren’t?” He insisted. “It wouldn’t change much.”

“Yes, it would.” He replied indifferently. “It’s more complicated than that, and I’m not Shazam.”

Jon couldn’t help laughing quietly at the last thing. It was true that when it came to getting along with kids, both heroes and civilians, Shazam was the league’s number one resource. No one knew why exactly, but since that man arrived, he seemed to understand the youngest at levels that no one could explain, it was as if he was practically one of them, or another of his superpowers. In a short time, the community know as it relates to children and teens, Shazam and his relatives were always the correct solution, since they had avoided rebellious conflicts and family disasters with astonishing ease.

Some members claimed that it was because the current champion of the gods was so childish and simple that his mental age definitely fit enough for an average Titan to trust him. Others theorized that this ability was part of something much deeper and more worrisome related to his civil identity yet to be discovered, but to tell the truth it didn’t seem that they were going to guess it in the near future and Jon had always liked the hero, so it didn’t have to be very important, did it? Also, not knowing it helped him prove his point.

“No one’s like Shazam.” He answered Tim with a snort. “He makes it look easy, so it can’t be that complex, right?”

Timothy shook his head and for a moment swore he could see a glimmer of raw emotion between love, affection and concern shining in his eyes before they returned to their usual pale blue state and tenacity. Jonathan felt as if he had looked at him in the same way as a puppy or fawn stranded on the road, amused, and touched by his innocence and naivety, but at the same time concerned.

“It is, Jon. Trust me.” He affirmed with a patient and somewhat resigned tone, but with an indivisible sadness around the edges. “Taking care of a child is not the same as raising it, and not many people are capable of doing that.”

After that, Superboy didn’t know what to say. He fixed his gaze on the red and white checkered tablecloth on the table and fiddled with his fingers thoughtfully.

A part of him carefully analyzed the older boy’s words, trying to understand and apply them through what his reasoning allowed him, and agreeing with him as the seconds passed and could connect the dots, understand what he wanted to say. Because no matter how much anyone was good with kids, sometimes that wasn’t enough to keep them, whoever you were. Hero or civilian.

Shazam wasn’t capable of raising anyone as a father, even he knew that, and sometimes even his own made mistakes that Jon couldn’t excuse. Even Batman himself, with so many children under his mantle, failed when it came to raising children, which he could see and know thanks to Damian and the trust they already had strengthened by their friendship to admit to each other that their respective parents are not as perfect as they boasted at the beginning of their relationship. So, Jon, despite his slight confusion, was able to understand the point that being a father was not only difficult but not just anyone’s job.

However, all that was overshadowed by the other part of him, who was too busy feeling bad, annoyed, and terribly guilty for bringing up that topic of conversation before Timothy. You didn’t have to be very perceptive to notice the sadness in the boy’s words, and you didn’t have to be very update to find out that they didn’t come only from the knowledge and intelligence that everyone knew he possessed, but from his own experience.

It’s not like Jon knew much about Tim’s biological parents, in fact, in general neither he nor anyone else knew more than they should about any of the older Robins’ parents. They died, some were not nice, and the boys ended up in Bruce’s charge. That was all that mattered at the end of the day. However, as with Jason, people spoke, and Jon had a very good ear to avoid knowing certain things. Not to mention that Tim was a public figure who could not save himself from the scrutiny of the media, who loved to remember people’s tragedies in order to have something to talk about.

Timothy was just like his mother, in the shape of his face, eyes, nose, hair straight and black, and even in the graceful posture and complexion, an exact copy of “Gotham’s Ice Queen”, or so, she had been nicknamed on the morning show he got to see. He also resembled his father in his smile, his attitude, and he seemed friendly and outgoing. They were saying that the Drakes were rich, that they died tragically, they loved their son very much but traveled out of town constantly for their archaeological excavations.

They traveled a lot.

Maybe too much.

Long enough not to see Tim grow up.

Like it or not, Jon was hurting. His throat tightened, the guilt sinking deeper into him, and he sighed heavily. It hurt to know all this, it hurt to understand it, to understand the reason for Tim’s reasoning and his reluctance to answer to the question that had started this whole conversation. He felt that he shouldn’t, he had no right to know that part of him, because he didn’t know too much? Wasn’t that the kind of thing a child shouldn’t be thinking?

Again, he wasn’t a normal child.

“Would you be able?” He ended up asking after gulping and deciding he couldn’t leave it at that. “Raising a child.”

Tim, who had been looking at him intently during that brief time of silence, tilted his head to the side as he looked away to think, making Jon’s pulse race nervously. For a moment he considered that Tim was angry with him, but that thought evaporated as fast as a playful smile slowly settled on the other’s face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He said in a joking tone and leaning in his seat.

Jon couldn’t react in time before the other raised a finger and left a quick and loving touch on his nose, making Jon smile relieved and happier that the older wasn’t sad or in a bad mood after all his questions. Again, the somewhat heavy atmosphere from the kitchen seemed to have suddenly gotten up with just that innocent touch.

“You know what?” Jonathan asked more cheerfully as he dragged his chair even closer to Tim. “If you did, Damian would love your children.”

“You think so?” Tim asked laughing softly.

“I'm sure!” He nodded. “He would do anything for his nephews, even without knowing them.”

It was as if he could see it. It hadn’t even happened, and it may never have because who knows if any of the bat kids were willing to add more members to the family, time would tell. But Jonathan was sure his best friend would be captivated at first sight by any nephew they gave him and would spoil the children in question in that protective and cordial way so characteristic of him. His heart pounded with excitement just thinking about it.

“Sounds like something Babybat would do, yes.” Tim said with that tender shine in his eyes again. “You really know him huh?”

Jon noticed the change in his tone immediately, inquisitive and implying something that made his heart race faster. His cheeks burned as he shifted in the chair, restless.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He replied quickly, wanting to change the subject immediately.

Tim laughed softly and looked at him amused, as if he knew something Jon didn’t, or just entertained for his nervousness, again.

The super was already expecting him to avoid answering again when his soft laughter stopped, he dived into the red sweatshirt that appeared to be one size larger than his, and he looked into his eyes with the happiest and calmest expression Jon had ever seen in him. His eyes were full of tenderness, rosy cheeks and an ear-to-ear smile that closely resembled the one that appeared in a photo that was broadcast on TV of a young Jack Drake talking with the one who would become his wife at a charity Gala.

“Maybe, someday.” Tim answered. “With the right person.”

Jon didn’t need more signs to realize that Tim had already found that person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you expected after the last chapter was the imminent reunion between Damian and his brothers and all (and the children, of course), but first I needed to write this Jon-Tim fluffy familiar scene because as I said in other chapters I like to deepen the character's relationships and, in Jon's case, it's great to know why he was so willing to help the couple even if he wasn't a bat. So here it is, Jon and Tim being cute together on Kent's farm.
> 
> Regarding the chapter, well I think Tim could act as an annoying big brother sometimes and Jon at that moment was such an easy target for that, more than Damian I think (?) And I couldn't help to talk about the Shazam thing here because for me is one of the most hilarious things in DC universe ever, DC is seriously wasting an excellent comedy material with Billy Batson hiding his age at the league but I'm willing to use it for my own. And well, beyond Jon's naivety in wanting to have nephews, I don't know what else to say about it apart from the fact that this was one of the chapters I had in mind when I started this fic and I really think the concept of Tim knowing Jon since he was little and loving him like his other little brother really seems nice to me.
> 
> About next chapter, I really want to post it soon because I'm not stucked anymore, I want to write, and I'm ready to share with you the reunion,finally, because I've been wanting to write it since I started, it's the moment.
> 
> So, sorry again for the late and hope you like this chapter and you're waiting for the next bc I would really appreciate.
> 
> See you ~


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian's POV.
> 
> "What did you do? What are you afraid of?"
> 
> That question asked by Conner Kent that morning was repeated in Damian's mind over and over again as he could hear every second how the fragile threads that had held his composure together all these years were slowly breaking.
> 
> Crack. Crack. Damian listened to him.
> 
> Turns out he was afraid of many things, but he thought he wouldn't have to face any of them for a long time. Until now.
> 
> "Damian..." Timothy said in a low voice, surprised, and betrayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, how you doing?
> 
> This time it didn't take so long, right? It's because I have been so excited about finally writing this you have no idea. I admit I'm a little nervous, and that's why it takes me a little longer than I expected, but it's because I wanted to do it right. I know too that many were waiting for this to come so, here you are! The expected reunion.
> 
> I will talk a bit more about in the authors note below, so thank you so much again for reading and enjoy ~

**_Now_ **

_"Damian, what did you do?"_

That question asked by Conner Kent that morning in a pained and curious tone as he stood in the doorway of his kitchen, was repeated in Damian's mind over and over again as the same way a loud and muffled echo could invade the corners of an empty and spacious place.

His head wasn't exactly empty, but there was certainly a great lack of logical thought or reaction that made that conversation with his brother-in-law hit him where it hurt at the right time, reminding him of everything he had wanted to say and yet didn’t.

Motionless and trying to assimilate the image in front of him, the youngest of the Wayne family swallowed hard to try to get rid of the strong pressure in his throat that was stopping him from breathing normally.

_"What are you afraid of?"_ Kon had asked, clenching his fists, and looking at him pleadingly, hoping to confirm his suspicions and find out what they had been keeping from him all this time. While he, overwhelmed, used his facade, and turned his back to pretend that everything was going well and didn’t feel the guilt devouring him inside.

Just like now, he was doing his best to step aside on that avenue and act naturally so as not to stand out. Reaffirming his posture so as not to be noticed by the crowd that had begun to disperse and barely controlling the emotions that invaded him. It was the way to keep his sanity even though he could hear every second how the fragile threads that had held his composure together all these years were slowly breaking.

_Crack. Crack._

He could feel them splitting in two, falling apart as he looked more at the happy family. It almost hurt him physically, because those threads, those patches, and strings that he had patched up with and tried to fix himself like a broken toy so long ago, had lasted too long. They were old and wrong, badly stitched, and inaccurate. And now they were splitting, falling, leaving the multiple wounds to his heart and soul open and bleeding in a way he hadn't been able to afford before.

_Crack. Crack._

The girl in Jason's arms was talking about something while waving her hands and her entire body with excitement, the adult listening patiently with a soft smile and his eyes shining with genuine happiness and affection.

_Crack. Crack._

Timothy laughed at what she said, encouraging her to continue as his hand gently cradled the head of the boy he holds, who had leaned on his shoulder sleepily and listened in silence.

_Crack. Crack._ Damian listened as he remembered. Relentless and painful.

_"Damian, what are you afraid of?"_

The question arose within him, with regret.

_"What are you afraid of?"_

Wasn’t sure.

_"What are you afraid of?"_

Doesn’t know.

_"What are you afraid of?"_

Many things.

_"Are you afraid?"_

Yes.

_"You do?"_

Yes. He’s afraid. He is very afraid.

Or had, rather.

The answer came instinctively, without thinking. He knew he should have answered the same to Kon that morning rather than ignoring him and pretending nothing was happening. He should have been sincere and said yes, indeed he was worried and feared of many, many things, and although he couldn’t explain what they were he had been dreading them all this time.

That little part of him that still belonged to the battered young Damian, barely held behind the patches, could say a lot about it. Could tell him that he was weak, insufficient, that he had softened, and that fear was not something a warrior like him should feel because it was stupid, insignificant.

But given the circumstances, Damian believed that he had a right to have those fears. And, this time, to stop feeling them.

Let go Tim and Jason was not easy. At all.

Not because of everything that happened, not because of the dire consequences that had led him to where he was (all of that was already quite clear at a glance), but because it had fueled insecurity within him which had been dragging all these years.

It wasn’t guilt, nor regret. It was just fear. One so big and magnified that it had paralyzed him to the extreme, that it had fueled his nightmares even more times than deep regret. One he already knew, had already plagued him before in his childhood and whose dominance and poisonous words he had already suffered without being able to avoid.

_"What if you have failed?"_ It was saying.

_"What if you have made the wrong decision?"_ It said.

_"If you have, you have ruined everyone's life again."_ It sentenced with cruelty.

Yes, Damian had been struggling with his insecurities and fear of failure his entire life. Which had undoubtedly been quite harmful, even dangerous.

On this occasion, not only did resurface strongly, but he saw no reason to stop it. After all, despite knowing that Tim and Jason had to go, that he was doing the right thing by helping them, who assured him that it would turn out okay? Uh?

No one.

Once they both disappeared after the airport security check, he was blind, totally, and absolutely blind. He wouldn't know where they were going if they would be safe there, what they would do, how, or if they would be alright.

When he decided to do what he did, he was sure about the reasons, but he didn’t think about what little he would know later and how much that would torture him. And although doing it he was aware of what he was causing around him, the only thing he had in mind was that he would make his brothers happy, that he was giving them what they deserved despite although everything indicated that he would never see them again.

But that insecure part of him, that part that he had decided not to listen anymore after realizing how poisonous it was, didn’t hesitate to begin and whisper and reveal options that he didn't want to take into account, that he hadn't wanted to think about while helping them.

But that voice didn’t stop, it didn’t stop talking and resurfacing as time passed without hearing from them.

What if they are dead? What if they have broken up? What if it went wrong? What if something has happened to them and no one will ever know? They went alone, without equipment, without backup, and nobody knew where they had traveled. The danger was in their lives no matter how much they left it behind, they may have been attacked, or injured, or maybe they had separated, maybe things hadn’t gone well between them when they saw each other in a place other than Gotham, or worse situations could have arisen that nobody has been aware of.

Who knows? He didn't, Damian couldn't because he had said goodbye to them at the airport and hadn't heard from them again. And there was a possibility that he had unconsciously thrown them under the bus or quite the opposite. He couldn't be sure because he was in the dark and that fueled his insecurity, even more, compounding his unease about having made the wrong decision.

Rationally, he knew that this entire line of thought was born out of deep concern for his siblings, out of an enormous desire for them to be safe and happy. And that it was how much he loved them, how much he _needed_ that all this went well which made him so uneasy and afraid that he had failed, that it had not gone as expected and in the end had also ruined Tim's life and Jason in the process.

He couldn't bear that, he couldn't.

He did everything for them, sacrificing himself and the other members of his family for it, not to mention his beloved. If he had failed, if it had not worked, he would have pushed his older siblings out of their life, friends, and family to make them miserable too, and that would be too much.

There was a quota of lives Damian could destroy.

The best thing is that he would never know if it had turned out well or not. He would never know if he had made the right decision, or instead condemned Tim and Jason for the rest of their days.

Damian had resigned himself to being all his life not knowing the truth, to being in total darkness about it, not having a single indication of whether his sacrifice had been worth it or not.

Until now.

_Crack. Crack._

He inhaled shakily and then exhaled forcefully, trying to breathe and relax his muscles. His eyes felt burning, he was on the verge of tears of happiness and excitement.

“ _I did it. I did that.”_ He thought, assimilating as he could what he was still observing. “ _I have helped that.”_

He had no words to describe the relief and deep comfort he was feeling at that moment. It was indescribable, overwhelming, like a balm that drowned him and lifted all the guilt and anxiety of those last two days. That anguishing weight that he had carried so long on his back had vanished in an instant, it had evaporated the moment he saw the scene in front of him and he could finally breathe, _feel_.

Barbara had told him that he needed this, that he needed to see it. And as much as he was mad at her for the whole debacle that morning, she was right, she was so, _so_ right.

He needed to see Tim and Jason in person, without filters. See them together, embraced, with a ring on their finger and holding what was now their own family. He needed to see what he had helped to create, what they had achieved thanks to him, what his effort, pain, and perseverance had resulted in because otherwise, he would not believe it.

_Crack. Crack._

This, _all_ this, was what he craved and desired. The proof he wanted and now was in front of him.

Suddenly his father's anger didn't matter anymore, or Grayson's rejection, neither his sadness nor anything else in the world, because he could _breathe_. He could breathe and he could live, live without problems, and move on knowing what he had accomplished.

Damian sighed and lifted one of his shaking hands to his face, rubbing his eyes to keep from crying and his cheeks to make sure he hadn't started to do it before. He felt overwhelmed and vulnerable. So many things to think about, to feel. Feelings weren't his strength, but he'd held back so much and it's not like he'd expected to reach any other way when he found Tim and Jason. To tell the truth, it is not as if he had stopped to think about how he would act or behave the moment he met them again because it was not something that he had thought would happen.

So, there he was, with his father behind him, also quiet and assimilating. Both trying to go unnoticed on the avenue that led to the school. Possibly drowning inside and trying to keep their composure not to run to where the other family was.

_Crack. Crack._

Quite useless because his threads kept breaking, kept tearing apart.

With his heart pounding, Damian fixed his gaze on the children Tim and Jason held. Analyzing them carefully as his chest swelled with unexpected pride and affection that he didn't even bother to suppress.

Both were small and fragile, but they seemed happy and very close, especially in the arms of their parents. They were probably in preschool, four or five years old at most. The girl was a little taller than the boy, but if Damian had to guess he would say they were twins.

The girl was energetic and smiling from what he could see. Her sleek, shiny black hair was pulled back into adorable pigtails that bounced as she leaned into Jason's arms to call her brother, gesturing with her hands, and laughing adorably as her sky-blue eyes sparkled with glee.

The boy, a little calmer and smaller straightened up and stopped Tim from stroking his short, dark, straight hair as he leaned down to let his sister's hand grip his tightly, causing the girl to let out a small giggle heard from his position.

However, the boy didn’t seem to mind that, neither did he appear to listen to what Tim or Jason began to say, but rather distracted by something else, almost confused. Raising his head with a surprised expression and still holding his sister's hand, the boy's greenish-blue eyes turned to his left, then to the right, as if they were looking for something. He looked back, again to the right, to the left, and then directly to ...

Shit.

Damian froze.

And Bruce, whose presence hadn't bothered to think until now, did too.

He was looking at them.

Double shit.

The boy was looking directly at them, with intensity and some curiosity in that innocent look.

Neither of them could prevent a chill from running through them, because how had he noticed them? As much as Damian had been overcome by the situation, he believed that they had moved away from the center of the avenue and had hidden among the people quite well. They were bats, going unnoticed was part of their charm, no one had noticed them, why did the boy?

_Crack. Crack._

Now the little one was watching them carefully, indiscreet, amazed, and still leaning his little body on Timothy.

Out of nowhere, the last Robin felt a change of pressure on his arm that would have surprised him if he hadn't been motionless under the unusual gaze of that kid. It was familiar, but not in a good way and he couldn't place it. But not he couldn’t stop and think about it because it wasn't that important when his father, who hadn't let go of his grip on him all this time, pulled back his arm imperceptibly as if he wanted to instigate him to leave.

That confused him even more, because did he want a withdrawal? Batman? After _everything_?

_Crack. Crack._

The boy kept looking at them without paying attention to anything else. And with his grasp on his sister’s hand wavering, she ended up looking at him realizing where his attention was, fixing those icy eyes on them in an instant.

Bruce tightened his grip, Damian felt trapped.

_Crack. Crack. Crack._

“Hey, kiddos.” He heard Jason say when neither of them answered what they were saying. “Are you listening?”

_Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack._

“What are you looking a...?”

When Tim asked that, he followed the children's gaze

And then their eyes met.

_CRACK!_

Everything fell silent. The world around them paused.

Tim stood still, stiff as a statue and a surprised expression breaking through his features. Jason, noticing his hesitation, also ended up looking in their direction, narrowing his eyes and leaving his face completely blank, indecipherable, listless in disguised but no less latent anger and rage.

Damian held his breath, feeling completely vulnerable and destroyed inside, waiting for the illusion to break and everything to fall apart. The chances of this ending badly were high and not all results were favorable to either party. From everything that could happen maybe they would flee, or attack, maybe Bruce did, or a scene worthy of a show or even a chase could happen. He couldn’t tell, the situation was complicated and at this moment he felt trapped, undecided, the tension between them was becoming almost unbearable despite being meters apart.

Slowly, Tim tightened his grip on the boy and cradled his head again to bury his face in his shoulder, ignoring the curiosity of the minor and preventing him from looking at them any longer. In turn, Jason also adjusted his strong grip on the girl and made a move to step back, as if ready to run out.

A pinch went through his chest, aching and cold, realizing they wanted to flee. Of them, of _him_.

But no, he wasn’t the problem. Damian wasn't the problem, he knew it.

Who they looked at, who they didn't take their eyes off, who they fixed their eyes with distrust, terror, and deep disappointment, from whom they protected the children and who they didn’t want them to see, wasn’t him but who was behind him. It was Bruce who they wanted to run away from, who they inspected with an intense and aware glance each time as if he planned to take their children away or attack them at any moment. To be honest, they had reason to think that, and if they hadn't been caught in these circumstances, they would probably be a long way off by now.

They had seen Damian too, yes, their eyes had met for a few glorious seconds that take his breath away. But they weren't watching him, they hadn't tensed when they saw him, because they knew they didn't have to worry or take care of him, they trusted him but unfortunately, they couldn't say the same for Bruce.

Bruce realized that he was the only problem here, that it was his very presence that was sabotaging his opportunity to speak to them. Nor was it very difficult to deduce, not only for all the times Damian had reiterated what would happen but because the sharp, cautious, warning glances were directed solely at him. If they fled it was because of Batman if they lost them was his fault.

The grip on his arm became stronger but shaky and almost hesitant. Although surprisingly, after a few long seconds, it began to slowly loosen until it completely disappeared, setting him free.

It was like a leash was removed and Damian didn't even think about it or deigned to look back before starting to run towards his brothers.

All he heard was his racing heartbeat, and all he saw was his older brothers getting closer, closer, closer, _right there_. They still watched their father closely but seemed to relax as they realized Damian was the only one approaching them and not Batman.

They decided to release the kids and leave them in the ground as they hide them behind them so as not to have their hands full, just in case. The kids stayed behind Jason's legs, stunned, and watching him as he got closer.

By the time he was finally in front of them, he had no words.

It was curious because during all these years he found himself many times thinking about the things he would say if they met again one day. And now that he was here, he had no idea where to start, or even to start. His heart kept beating too fast and his voice didn't seem to work right, his thoughts were racing that he couldn't focus on just one and he just stood there, looking at the agitated and still assimilating that it was them.

“Damian…” Tim said in a low voice, amazed and looking him up and down.

He shuddered because he knew that feeling so well, the one to make sure he was seeing who he thought it was because it was the same one he had since he'd gotten there and saw them ... like this.

Jason still hadn't taken his eyes off Bruce, suspicious and with one arm behind him to make sure the kids were still there, but he knew he was also very aware that he was two feet in front of them.

“I…" He said in a hoarse voice, broken by nerves. “I don’t…”

Fuck.

He didn't know what to say.

He was one of the most lethal people in the world and yet he was hesitating, not knowing how to talk to them and regretful as well as grateful for having found them. There were no more seams to break, there was nowhere to hide.

He knew he shouldn’t be here, but at the same time he _wanted_ to be here, and how could he express that?

Tim's blue eyes kept him in place and Jason was already alternating between watching his father and staring at him in a daze. And at least he didn't seem to be the only one not knowing what the hell to say, because the elders also seemed to have problems reacting, causing silence and a less aggressive tension to settle on them.

“I didn't want this.” He ended up blurting out. “Neither Jonathan. It was a coincidence, they found you and I tried to stop them from doing this, but they didn't listen to me. They got angry and forced me to...”

They had to know that, they had to forgive him. This had not been his plan, he had not betrayed them, he would never, _never_ do that and he was so mad at himself for letting this happen.

And he was going to continue with his pathetic explanation when Tim raised his hand and silenced him by cradling his cheek gently. Didn't walk away, and the fact that he was caressing the side of his face where Grayson had punched him that morning didn’t go unnoticed.

Tim's gaze traveled from his swollen cheek to the other wounds on his face, to his head, then to his side, his hands, his torso, all of him, and then back up, meeting his eyes and repeating the process. Jason, who was no longer watching the bat, seemed to be doing the same silently and with the same disgruntled expression. Damian didn't know what they were doing, why they were examining him like this, and why they weren't scolding and berating him instead. They didn't even seem to have heard him, and if they had they didn't care, but he didn't understand, they should be furious with him.

Timothy finally sighed heavily and when his indigo eyes met his again, they were wet, shining with pure affection and joy. A soft smile was beginning to adorn his face.

“Dami.” He said in his voice raw with emotion. “You grew up so much.”

The next thing was like a dam collapsing.

Jason grabbed his shirt and dragged him towards them, making Damian lunge as they both greeted him with open arms. He ended up being hugged between the two with more force than should have given his injuries. But it didn't matter, because he, defenseless and without barriers, couldn't help but start shedding all the tears that he had been suppressing so far and found himself sobbing as he grabbed them as if they were the only thing keeping him alive.

And he didn't care, he didn't care about anything.

Because there were no more defenses left intact inside of him and fuck, he deserved this, he did. He knew it, he had earned it. He deserved to hold them tight, to feel how they held him in return, he deserved to grab Jason's arm and Tim's shoulder to bring them closer to him, to bury his face in the wide shoulder of one and let everything out while the other ran his hand down his back and cradled his head in that familiar way he instinctively knew.

He had been so afraid of forgetting how those touches felt, those unusual yet characteristic gestures. With each passing year, he had become more terrified of himself as he realized that he could not remember certain things, remember them in the same way. Like the way they smelled, the sound of their voices, how Jason held someone so firmly and securely, or Tim made him calmly lean on him.

He hadn't wanted to forget any of it, but he couldn't help himself and now that he was experiencing it again, he felt like he was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years old again. And now, he was again the insecure child who couldn’t believe that someone loved him for the simple fact of being him, that they had chosen to be his family and love him despite his mistakes, his past.

And it was in that instant, at that moment, squeezed between his two brothers, that he realized that the seams and threads he had tried to build, those that had been so easily broken a few minutes ago, were not necessary. He felt more complete than ever. The sad little boy locked up behind them was now laughing and the affection that emerged from that embrace made all previous anguish disappear.

He was so happy. Every tear he shed was of happiness, he was sure he couldn't feel anything else now.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” He sobbed over and over, now on Tim's shoulder.

He had so many reasons to be grateful to them. For staying alive, for moving on, for continuing to love and trust him deeply, for missing him as well, for continuing to be his brothers despite their time apart.

“I'm sorry, forgive me..." He said that too because he felt he had to.

“It's okay, Babybat." Jason replied.

“Akhi...”

"We got you, Damian." Tim whispered. "It’s okay, we got you."

He didn't know how long they stayed there, but it had to be a long time. With one discharging all the tears that he had saved for six years (and even longer) as if he were a sprinkler and the others comforting him how they could. He was not very clear of the things he had said between sobs and he also didn’t exactly remember the quiet responses of the others to comfort him, but it had to be too much.

If he had seen it from the outside, Damian would have even found it funny to witness how Tim, who was now much shorter, had to stand on tiptoe to reach his hair or wipe the tears from the face of a brother who was not that small.

But instead, after being able to breathe a little better and realizing that the painful, tearful explosion had been through the worst of it, he found himself busier trying to lessen the damage and rid himself of the silent tears that had been left behind.

The universe had other plans and wanted to humiliate him even more because he had not even separated from the hug or decently dried his tears -or with dignity- when a light touch on his knee startled him, drawing his attention and of the two elders to their feet.

Separating a little, it was the sight of the children looking at them with concern and frowns that reminded them that they were not alone in this reunion. Which made them finally pull away and pull themselves together a bit.

The boy had rested the palm of his hand on Damian's knee, curious and pained, while the girl had grabbed onto Tim's pants and gazed between them impatiently, waiting for their attention.

“Hey, kiddos.” Jason said, sighing heavily, but with a smile. "Too bad of us, we forgot to make introductions, right?"

Some of them nodded, but Damian didn't see him because he was wiping his face and trying to be decent in the most dignified way he could find. After all, he had just realized that the first image his nephews were going to have of him was that of a pathetic crybaby clinging to his parents.

“Sorry.” Tim explained to them patiently as he separated the girl's hands from his pants and caressed the bridge of her nose from top to bottom lovingly. “It had been a long time since we saw each other, and we’ve missed him a lot. We were happy and got distracted.”

“Like Whiskey?” The girl asked then, honestly and without malice.

Jason bit back a laugh and Tim shook his head, funny.

“More or less, yes.” He claimed. “But it's not the same. Because Whiskey saw you every day and it’s not a relative. You understand it, right?”

This time he could see how they both nodded understandingly and with their eyes shining intelligent, understanding the emotion that one of their parents had just explained to them and the why of that dramatic tear-jerker show.

And Damian didn't know what or who the fuck Whiskey was, so he wasn't sure if he had to be offended or not.

However, Jason placed the kids in front of him, side by side, and they ended up looking at each other. It was there when Damian was beginning to understand that he was in quite serious trouble as the strong and powerful instinct of protection and devotion towards them came out of nowhere inside him and almost scared him.

"Damian." Tim started to say, pointing first at the girl. "This is Lynn, our daughter."

Lynn jumped a little and smiled at him, adorable.

Damian smiled back at her and held back from looking at Timothy at all. Lynn… It was a pretty name, and he knew the reason for it, the legend of Janet Lynn Drake still resonated in the higher Gotham socialite.

"And Will, our son." He said this time pointing to the boy.

Will waved his hand to him but he looked down embarrassed, shy, and sweet.

Damian smiled at him the same way he smiled at his sister even though he couldn't see him as his chest twisted. Will… Will… It could be because of William, like any character of a book Jason liked, or… it could be because of Willis Todd.

What the fuck, Jason.

“Okay. Princess, Snowflake, this is Damian.” Jason continued, smiling, and pointing at him without caring about the nicknames or the obvious surprise on his face. “Our little brother and your uncle. Treat him well and don't eat him.”

Damian tried not to choke or start crying again at the warmth and excitement that ran through him when he heard Jason introduce him that way. Instead, he crouched down to be at the same level as the little ones and held out one of his hands in greeting.

“Hi.” He said to them trying to outline a firm smile.

Damian had no fucking idea what he was doing because he was good with kids in the field, but how did you talk to children on a regular day basis? How did you talk to your nephews? Especially with those you just met?

Oh my god, he was an uncle, _uncle_. These children were his _nephews,_ and he was holding out his hand to them, wasn't that very boring? Would a cool uncle do that?

Did he even want to be the cool uncle?

Lynn's warm little hand went to his and tried to take it to return the greeting, but he had to grab it because it was too tiny, it barely covered the palm of his hand, and Damian's heart squeezed when he saw his little hand disappear under his.

“Why were you crying?” She asked, too direct, but still curious and innocent.

He tensed. He didn't know what to say to her, he thought Tim had made them understand that it was because he had missed their parents. But of course, a child's mind works in a rather curious way sometimes. For a moment he considered lying, but there was not much to say either and with a single look into her crystalline eyes Damian knew he would never be capable of doing that now.

"Because I'm so happy to meet you."

That, along with his confession to Jonathan years ago, maybe was the most sincere and clear thing he has ever said.

He heard Jason snort above them and was about to complain, but then Will walked over to him, and instead of trying to grab his hand as his sister had done, he just lifted his and placed it on his swollen cheek, the same way Tim had done when he saw him, imitating his father.

Damian blinked in surprise, his eyes watering again. His hand was so tiny and soft, so innocent and fragile, trying to comfort him despite having no idea what was going on. His heart clenched tighter and that sense of protection grew more, much more.

“Shh. Don’t cry anymore.” Will said a little secure of himself and smiling softly. “We are also happy to meet you, Uncle Damian.”

“Yes!” Lynn exclaimed clinging to his arm. “Finally, Uncle Damian!”

Uncle Damian.

Uncle Damian.

That sounded in his head a thousand times and there was no way in the multiverse to describe how much he loved hearing it.

He cradled Will's hand still on his cheek and let Lynn hug his side as they both began to speak to him and bombard him with innocent questions, between giggles and jumps of excitement that shook his heart.

And while he was trying to think how to answer questions like "Do you want to meet Whiskey?", "Do you want to play tea party with us?" or "What’s your favorite Disney film?", he looked up to see how Tim and Jason had re-fixed their serious glances behind him, across the avenue, right at the exact spot where he had left Bruce.

When he turned around and looked, there was no one there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damian: I've only known my nephews for a minute but if something bad happens to them I will kill everyone on this planet (?)
> 
> Well, how was it?
> 
> Actually, I'm so surprised by a lot of things. First, myself because this is the first time I get to write fifteen chapters of something, my old fics were shorter and always I ended up abandoning them, but I truly love this one and I don't want to do that. And second, with all the support and love that I continue to receive this story, I can't believe it, you guys are just amazing and I know I never answer all the comments but it's because I never know what to say to all the great things you say to me, seriously.
> 
> Now, talking about the chapter and reunion here... I don't know where to start.   
> Maybe I've said it in the latest chapters but this one was meant to be the FIRST chapter on this fic and now it's the fifteen and I think the reason for that was because I said myself before writing "if you are going to make Damian cry, at least it makes sense" and here we are. Damian is such a difficult character to portrait (not even DC does it right) and I wanted to be sure that I established well the foundations and reasons for Damian's emotional reaction to all of this. I don't know if I did well enough, but I tried??  
> At the same time, Tim and Jason's reaction to him was something tender to write because I just based it on my own experience. I have a little brother too and as you know I lived out of my country for a while, and when I returned home and saw him again he just passed through puberty and my reaction was "??????¿?¿?¿??? what???¿¿?" and I remember he talked to me but I was just looked at him like "¿?¿?? you're taller than me now??? ññññ??" and that's exactly what I think they would feel, yeah.  
> And talking about the kids, I struggled a little with their names because I wanted them to mean something. In the end, I liked "Lynn" a lot for the girl, I think it's beautiful and I didn't read many fics where Tim named one of his children like his mother, there's always a "Jack" over there, and that's precisely the name I wanted for the boy but was Jason's turn and that was quite difficult. But then I realized that "Will" could have a nice and beautiful explanation so I decided on that one. I didn't like the combination at first because Lynn and Will sound similar, but in my mind, the names were perfect like that so here they are! I can also relate with Damian when he tried to talk to them and start to freak out because I have a lot of little cousins and I'm always trying to be nice to them without feeling uncomfortable (?)
> 
> And that's it, I think (?) I'm not sure, I said a lot but because I was excited, sorry. Regarding next chapter, I can say it will be a flashback with Dick, more revelations are coming guys ~
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and see you next time ~


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